Pedicure joys

Last weekend, I got a pedicure and I haven't been able to stop looking at my feet. I love them!

My toes are a bright, bright, bright coral. And today I'm wearing these retro platform-y sandals, black with an ankle strap. Three flowers--one orange, one pink and one green--are appliqueed on the front of each shoe. And to top it off there are these fruit-shaped lucite dangly things hanging off the front and picking up the colors of the flowers. Think Carmen Miranda's headdress but on my feet. Right below come my coral toes and a snippet of the shoe's pink lining. Every time I look down, I'm amused.

Shoes have a special place in my heart. I love clothes, jewelry and all the other girly things, but once you have them on you can't see them. (Unless you plan to spend your day in front of the mirror.) When I have a great pair of shoes on, I get a little jolt of pleasure every time I look down at my feet. And a brand spanking new pedicure with a cute pair of sandals is the best feeling of all.

Do men care about such things? I know some of them like to see a woman in high heels, but do they care about feet? (Aside from foot fetishists, I mean.)

Once I was walking in to pay the cashier at a gas station and a man held the door open for me. I had just had a pedicure--red toes this time--and was wearing flat strappy sandals that looked as if a red patent-leather butterfly had just alit on each foot. As I opened my mouth to thank the guy, he looked down. "Can I just say one thing," he said upon looking up. "You sure do have some pretty feet."

It made my day.