If Feet Could Tell A Story

This photo from the weekend, I know the owners of the feet donning these shoes.  Even in the casual process of selecting shoes that morning, without knowing that I'd take this random photo in the middle of a Barnes and Noble later on, they probably hadn't a clue just how much their choice of footwear reflected who they are.  You can infer quite a bit about the owners from their shoes alone, no?  The shoe's style, its condition, its comfort level - they all scream of its owner.  It's so funny.  I myself was wearing squat fur-lined Uggs in a neutral color.  I mean, really, so me.

When it comes to presentation, I'm pretty much a heaping bag of hopeless in Asian form.  Soeur's convinced me.

        Why don't you get your hair cut?  Yeah, it's time.  Gettin' pretty gnarly over here.

        When will you wear that sweater I got you?  I do so love cashmere...

        You still haven't worn those new shoes yet, have you?  But they're soooo nice.

These are accusations that make me simultaneously roll my eyes and cringe because really, why don't I just get my hair cut?  Why don't I wear that sweater?  Why do I wait forever to wear new shoes?  What am I waiting for?

Outward appearances aren't everything, but I admit that they count.  Whether deliberate or not, my appearance is a large part of my identity, at least as it's received by the outside world.  I acknowledge this.  I even acknowledge that I feel good when I'm groomed.  A little manicure, some hair did, a spot o' blush, nice clothes - it really makes me stand taller, hold my head up just the tiniest bit higher.  And yet, I don't put the work in to make it a priority.

It's hard to figure me out.