One pair of Two Lips slingback wedges and (brand she can't remember) wedge mid-calf boots, she reigned victorious. We discussed our earlier trepidation around wedges. I, for one, am not a huge fan unless they're "shapely" wedges. (I wax unpoetically on Bettye Muller's in "I've Found a Wedge I Can Love.")
So she waltzes in this morning. First thing I notice: Her lovely gray top. A little bit ballerina, a little bit blousey, and a lot like the one I'm wearing this morning in indigo. Kindred spirits, clearly.
Next thing I notice: her camel wedges. They. Look. Fabulous. Love the pairing of grey with camel (and jeans). Her first comment: "I brought my other shoes, just in case." Her second comment: "I can't believe I'm wearing heels this high."
Baby B's tall. At least as tall as I am, if not taller.* I learned a long time ago that wearing heels as a Tall Woman is absolutely a lovely thing, not a tabu thing (despite what Ladies of a Certain Age tell me). But these are tall, she said. Look! she says, showing me the heel. (In the picture at left, her jeans are hiked up so you can see the shapely heel.)
And indeed they are. They're a solid 4 inches. Literally, solid. The good thing is that with a wedge, they're more stable and confidence inspiring. But they're still tall.
How tall are they, you ask?
They're so tall, that when Baby B put them on this morning and walked into her bathroom to get a look at herself, she saw her outfit. Which looked great. But she wasn't sure how it looked with her head and face.
They weren't visible in the mirror. She had to duck to get that view.
*We're not really that tall...somewhere in the vicinity of 5'9". But it does translate to a good solid Model Height when wearing heels. Tyra we're not, but I'll take it.