Gold Shoes?

Let me start out by saying I love my cousin to death. I do. She is the sweetest person ever and I'm so happy I get to share in her special day. With that said, there are days I wish I could get married again so I could inflict heinous outfits on her. I'm a tone it down kind of girl. I like jeans and black clothes and things that flatter my body type. Normally you won't catch me dead in bright patterns, gold accessories, or without a cocktail in my hand. August 7th I'll have the cocktail and I won't be dead, but I will be wearing a floral strapless dress and I will be sporting the gold shoe of all gold shoes.

I'd like a little payback for all the stupid barbies I had to play with her when we were little and now... gold shoes. I don't want to be a whiner (okay, who am I kidding, I'm having a little cheese with my whine)... but GOLD shoes? A. I hate gold. B. I hate gold, and C. I hate gold.

Okay good, that's off my chest, now here's whats going on my feet:


(Steffie, if you're reading, don't be offended, please, I will wear these with my afro and I will be 7 feet tall and it will be hot. And you won't hear a peep out of me on your special day. Hell, if you like, maybe we could go out for drinks and I'll wear them to the bar and pick up gargantuan men. Oh wait, I'm married, nevermind. But seriously, I'm just using the shoes for blog-fodder, don't get butthurt, I mean no harm).

STAT.