And I discovered one thing. Heels may be the only thing that will rid me of my slouchy, sloppy, unfeminine, graceless posture. Automatically, I sucked all that I was supposed to, in, and thrust all that I was supposed to, out. I squared my shoulders and looked straight at the top of the fridge. I felt spectacular and powerful and spectacularly powerful.
I have a sinking feeling that my abovementioned problems in carrying myself have a little more than little to do with the fact that I am either barefoot or in flip-flops at all times. Even at work. Flip-flops make employment bearable.
Imagine going to work in heels! I shudder to think of my predicament.