No Mo Hair

Last night was date night. Dates are important. Even Ryan, our 6 going on 60 year old knows what date translates into..."It's how you love mom," I heard him explain to his dad earlier this week. I heart that boy. OK, enough soul exposure. For tonight.

So, the event was a wedding. Yay, because all girls know that wedding translates into dress up time.

The line up was as follows:

little black dress...check
strapless bra borrowed from my teen...TMI?? tell me about it...anyway, check
hair curled, make up done...check
jewelry...check
shoes...now for true confessions.

I'm not a shoeaholic.

Yes, I said it out loud, or in print, which ever is most convicting. I know that most women are in love with their expansive shoe wardrobe but my budget and desire have never completely mingled. At least not far enough in advance to enjoy a night out together. This typically translates into the last minute rummage through the skimpy collection on the bottom of my closet floor leaving me last night with a very unused, black patent sling strap Jimmy Choo Anne Klein heal. Perfect. Right until I saw the dingy fake leather sadly looking back at me.

These kinds of problems don't typically intimidate me though.

The Mission: to make the shoes look as good as possible while remembering that I have no attachment to the shoes itself. I quickly put on my Heloise hat and thought as she would...a simple buff...not effective. Clear finger nail polish, umm no, too time consuming. Then I spied the new bottle of spray wax that I bought from my hairdresser earlier in the week. (Now, hair products are a far different kind of addiction which we will not discuss tonight.) Man, not blogging for a year has left me full of tangents. I'll work on that. Anyway, the problem at hand seemed to be solved. A little spray here, a little blow dry there and voila! Good as new shoes.

Attention: this is not a tangent. We have a dog. Her name is Hedy. She is a Blue Heeler and she sheds.

The line up was complete. Sam, looking dashing as usual, grabbed my hand, the invitation and off we went.

We started the car, entered the info in the GPS and as I did the final check, it was then that I paid the consequence of my hap hazard attention to the detail of shoes. And apparently the lack of attention to my again, no name vacuum.

Let's just say that the spray wax and heat and shedding of our Hedy united.

Mohair patent anyone?



The cake however, was divine, as was the evening.

Congrats Melanie and Andy! May you love and laugh, with yourselves and others today (especially) and always.