If I were wearing these Stuart Weitzman shoes, I wouldn't feel worn ragged in the slightest, even while, for example, hopelessly scraping burned oatmeal out of a brand new pot while the laundry churns out a pair of socks so that I could go outside. In these, I would not even need socks. Although perhaps (let me check. . . oh dear God, no) CERTAINLY I would require a fancypants pedicure before going anywhere even remotely populated with the non-blind.
What's this? ON SALE, you say?
Dilemma of the day: Hogwarts Lego to make six-year-old believe in Santa Claus OR mincing-down-the-Croisette heels for newly dreamy lilting mommy with Mediterranean clouds in her no-longer-bleary eyes to make six-year-old believe in home sweet home?