If you’re going to wear heels to a sporting event, it better be basketball. It makes sense to wear heels to, say, a Nuggets game, especially if you get dressed up, have good seats, and plan to spend halftime enjoying a beverage at Blue Sky Grill. There’s a certain segment of people who attend Nuggets games who are on any given evening as they say stylin’ and profilin’.
It does not make sense to wear heels to a baseball game. Heels at a baseball game are ridiculous on all counts and everybody knows it.
That didn’t stop me yesterday. I’d had two beers1 and we were biking to the Rockies game,2 so I knew there would be limited walking involved. Our seats require minimal stair climbing. That means it would be an awesome idea to wear ridiculous heels I’ve worn only once in my life! With shorts, no less!
To tell you the truth, I don’t have much patience for heels any more. They’re one of those things I’ve lost my will to tolerate as I’ve gotten older.3 Platforms are one thing but heels are, more often than not, just a pain in the ass. But last night, for some mysterious, beer-oriented reason, I was all about wearing heels to the baseball game.
I’m usually a sensible woman who wears flip flops to baseball games, but as I am wont to say, once I get a bee in my bonnet about making a questionable fashion decision,4 there’s no stopping me. The biking portion of the evening wasn’t bad. Although the smooth soles slid around on the pedals, the heels held my shoes in place. The trip from the bike racks into Coors Field and up to the Sandlot bar was smooth sailing.
Things didn’t get sketchy until Ben was ready to take Soren for a walk around Coors Field a few innings into the game.5 He assumed I didn’t want to go because of my ridiculous shoes. Shit like that makes me get all “I am woman hear me roar” and I was all, of course I’m going on a walk with you guys!
It turned out that Ben thought my presence on the walk around Coors Field was A++ would do again, harsh as it might the usual Ben/Soren dude groove. While I did my best to hold one of Soren’s hands and totter around on shoes that aren’t quite made for this, Ben watched everybody react to my sheer ridiculousness. Older women seemed particularly disturbed. He said they were either giving me dirty looks or wondering why in the hell I was tromping around at a baseball game wearing those stupid-ass gold shoes. With shorts no less! I was wondering the same thing! I have no idea why I was wearing that getup. I knew that if the fashion police were there, I would’ve been arrested and taken to the Coors Field jail.6
To tell you the truth, I think this shoe ridiculousness, which really is harmless unless you’re an innocent bystander who saw this hot mess last night, is a byproduct of my spending fast.7 When I was addicted to shopping, I bought shit like clothes and shoes all the time. I’d wear all the new stuff and forget about the old stuff.
Like those silly gold shoes. I’ve worn them once before. It was New Year’s Eve, maybe 2007. Ben and I went to some fancy party at the mansion next to LePeep on York Street. I wore an awesome lime green dress, elaborate earrings, and those shoes. The party was a little crowded and the drinks weren’t the best. Eventually people started vomiting in the bathrooms. We left to meet up with the friends with whom we’ve spent every NYE since.
They were at a party at the amazing house of a woman we didn’t know who was, that very night, in the process of breaking up with her boyfriend, the brother of one of our friends. Someone was high as a result of edibles, which of course is the most crazy-ass kind of high to be. We played a game where you write your new year’s resolution on a piece of paper, fold it up, and put it into a bowl. The bowl gets passed around the room and each person pulls out a piece of paper, reads the resolution, and tries to guess whose it is. It’s probably the most awesome NYE game I’ve ever encountered, although it was maybe a little awkward in the impending breakup environment where Ben and I didn’t know everybody. I don’t remember what I resolved that night.
I didn’t remember the shoes, either, which sat in a box in my closet for years. They’re not the greatest shoes in the world. The little circles embellishing the straps started coming off the first time I wore them. Obviously, they’re not terribly comfortable. But hey, I’ve worn them twice, which is better than wearing them once and buying more random-ass shoes.
1. Before you start calling me Amateur Hour, we’ve cut back on our beer consumption a bit to, well, try to stop spending so much money on beer, so two beers affect me more than they used to.
2. We bought these tickets before I started the spending fast (sporting events are a prohibited expense).
3. See also eye makeup (glasses are the lazy woman’s eye makeup); fingernails that are any longer than super short.
4. Or getting bangs as the case may be. Yes, I do indeed rue the day.
5. This is their usual practice. I think my tag-along presence on these walks kind of harshes their dude groove.
6. This almost happened once.
7. Yes, I’m still doing the spending fast, which I started July 1. I’ll give you a progress report on the first two months around September 1. I don’t want to write about financial shit too much.