A lady sitting on a bench stops me as I walk down the street. "Miss!" she whispers. "Miss!" I stop, turn around, and put my hand behind me. I'm assuming I have something on my skirt, or toilet paper off my shoe.
"You look wonderful," she says.
I'm flabbergasted. She goes on to compliment my skirt (below-the-knew grey Banana chevron-pinstripe) and my overall look (finished with pale blue Circa by Joan & David wooden heel pumps and a chocolate brown shell). Her bench companion chimes in: "She's tall, she can carry it."
I thanked them profusely, and went on my way, walking just a bit taller.
Further on my way, I'm crossing a street, and as I hit the sidewalk, I see a couple approaching me.
"I could see those shoes from across the street," the female half of the couple exclaimed. Her male companion edged away, sensing a "shoe conversation." She did the whole "where'd you get them," and so on, then he chimed in, and they went on their way.
Somehow the whole rest of the day seemed just that much more managable.
Thank you, ladies.