Next time I'll go straight for the Botox

Conference luncheon.  Across a crowded hotel ballroom, I see a woman wearing a black coat, with a bright orange cambridge satchel worn cross-body, messenger style.

The minute the speeches are over and the last hand has clapped, I tap the woman (who incidentally also had flame colored hair - FABULOUS) on the shoulder and gush inappropriately  demurely admire her bag.

A few days later Husband wants to show me something on the computer.  Completely assume that it's going to be a clip from the A-team or Night Court.  Maybe some new rims for his car.

Nope.

He noticed that at the conference I accosted some poor innocent attendee stopped this orange chick to ask her about her bag.  He wanted to show me that a friend of ours mentioned the bag in her blog.  But wait a second, while he's paging down to show me the bag, I see these boots.







Fourteen hours later, I am handing the boots to a salesgirl.

"Who are these for? and what size is she?"

"Are you saying I'm too old for these boots?" (tapping my foot to the blaring music)

"Nnno.  I just assumed they were for a gift."

(Uh-huh. Because everyone knows shoes do not usually have to be tried on and are normally bought as gifts).

Cash.  Salesgirl hands boots to cashier.

Cashier looks at me.  Looks at her phone.  Looks at me.  Looks at the boots.

I look at the feather earrings, the fluorescent shoe laces, the pictures of Justin Bieber and Charlie Sheen.

Cashier looks back at me:

"Feeling young at heart today?"

Complaint tie-in:

I broke a personal rule on this one.  Usually if I wore something when it was in style the first time, I don't wear it the second time.  But I had to make an exception for Doc Martens.

Please don't rub it in.