Summer in New York is amazing. I drive with the top down while playing Kate Ryan loud (French house), show off my personally trained body in minis and I am sporting my dear old friends that are back in fashion; espadrillos. I haven't worn them since I broke my foot in Marbella, Spain three years ago. That's not the only fashion/bardancing accident I've ever had, but by far the worst one. Imagine spending the rest of the summer holiday with your foot in a cast! I was miserable, although men took better care of me than ever before, so it's not all bad.
I have now carefully weighed the risks versus the rewards for putting my espadrillos back on and I have decided it's worth it. But I must abide by one rule; I can't wear them when under the influence!
As I was getting ready to go out to our house in the Hamptons I realized my espadrillos pretty much take up one bag each and my trunk is too small!
For a brief second I considered getting one of those Porsche SUV's with lots of trunk space. But no matter how much as I love my shoes - I love my z4 more.
Another thing. When in the Hamptons I miss one thing above all; being single. As a wife I have limits, rules and have to behave. People know I'm Hubby's and watch my every move as they can't wait to see me ruin this perfect marriage by drunken swirling around poles in espadrillos - like back in the day. Anytime I seem to have fun in clubs with my girlfriends someone will always remind me ever-so-politely that I am a married woman and should act like one.
I'm quietly wondering if their idea of married women is sitting at home knitting. Seriously, married women should be allowed to party too! Since when does partying mean cheating?!