(New Yorker)
After wearing sneakers literally everyday 
for years, I decided, a long time ago, 
that they were made for workout.
Shoes offer such a variety of styles, why restricting ourselves
to rubber soles and round toes? 
Last time I bought actual sneakers (meaning not wedged,
not fancy-looking-allegedly-sporty-looking) intending 
to wear them in the street in lieu of the gym was... ten years ago.
Well, this time I wanted to buy runners and finally ended up
with those that are not really designed to keep you fit, 
but who knows, next pair maybe? 


(kind of) back

A bunch of nails to start again. I've been off the blog for a while because
1) I have a real job (real meaning that makes money which is 
more convenient to pay the rent), and that's time-consuming
2) I've been self-judging myself 
(yes, it feels as redundant as it reads) for peacocking.
Anyways, hopefully spring will come and bring some good blogging vibes.


Shoe love

Obviously those shoes by Kenzo are not mine.
I actually considered threatening him with divorce when
I noticed this undecided look on his face.
Thank God, he came back to his senses.
The lady in the department store felt the need to reassure us:
"there are also black shoelaces in the box."
Thanks, but we actually want the orange ones. 
Look, even the soles look hot. 
To tell you the truth, the box looked hot too.
For the first time in my life, I almost wished I was a man.



I don't understand women who don't do their nails.
Unless it's a time issue, since I must confess 
these cows were fairly time-consuming.
I think it's been three years I haven't left home with bare nails, 
and two years I haven't "just" painted them in only one color.
One more deeply superficial conclusion:
so many possibilities, so easy to feel creative, pretty addictive.
Concretely: two or three manicures a week.