Or, at least I would kick her non-existent ass out, anyway.
I recently read an article in an issue of Glamour magazine where Victoria Beckham said she loathed crocs (anyone who gives a rat’s ass about how they look would never be caught dead in a pair), boat shoes (maybe she has a point unless you yacht) and cowboy boots. STOP. THE. PRESS.
That’s when I decided Victoria Beckham, style queen extraordinaire, didn’t know what the F she was talking about (and after a quick review, you know who Posh Spice is and don’t know me from Adam). I have long admired Mrs. Beckham’s hot husband, style, hot husband, chic clothing, hot husband and often wondered how much food (and more importantly, Captain) I would have to cut out of my life to attain her figure. But I digress.
Because I live in Nashville, you can see where I may have an issue with her derogatory footwear statement (I wonder how many people in Texas she pissed off?) and I do realize that cowboy boots aren’t for everyone. I avoid tennis shoes like the plague (unless I’m working out) therefore, grant the western boot my casual shoe of choice.
Even as a kid in Iowa, I rocked cowboy boots and a snazzy hat alongside my sister (all dolled up for the annual rodeo).
Now today, I’m not dressing in the traditional country giddy up when I wear boots, but they can and do look fabulous with t-shirts, tanks, jeans and some ladies can even pull them off with a dress or skirt (mostly Taylor Swift, not regular people).
These boots were made for walkin’… and I have almost walked the soles off of my beloved $25 shit kickers (they aren’t the same brand of boot and I was able to masterfully finagle a killer deal).
My boots come in oh-so-fashionably handy when I know I’ll be running around all day at work, walking for miles to and from sporting events (since I lack a parking pass) and they are my kick ass cherry on top for concert outfits.
If these boots could talk…
I’ll bet you a pair of cowboy boots that if Victoria Beckham had to walk to the third tier of a stadium to get to her seat, saunter three miles to the concert venue because it cost $25 to park across the street (but only $3 if you park next to the empty warehouse with bars on its windows) or ran errands for a living and didn’t get to sit and design gorgeous clothes all day, she’d be swapping her trademark five-inch heels for something a little more comfortable, like cowboy boots…
But then she wouldn’t be the fabulous Victoria Beckham and I wouldn’t be writing this bitchy post about her now, would I?