Please forgive me Jesus, I can’t stop myself without Your help!

First, I was upset to see these $595 boots ( or rather, “kicks”) that have gotten so much press. Why does this poor girl need to spend so much on, let me quote here, “…my first piece of Alex Wang.”  “Alex??” Is that like someone buying the knock-off version by “Jeff” Campbell?

But then I am referred to an online magazine where the girl is featured in an interview and replying to the question, “What was the last thing you’ve bought?” the poor girl answers:

“A crew neck t-shirt from Obesity and Speed with ‘Choose Death’ printed on it. Can’t go wrong with that!”

Aaaah. Help me, help me, Jesus. Give me the courage, the wisdom, the serenity prayer, anything. The brand names, the goth cluelessness, no no no, take it away. Or help the poor girl to wise up.

Oooooh, I love these boots, because I love boots and because theyr’e “nude” which is So Essential this season.

But they also come in black suede with gold embossed stuff.

I want these boots. They look like I MIGHT be able to walk in them, too. But I can’t have them because of the no money thing. I can’t buy either pair. Which pair should I not buy more? The nude or the gold?

Sea has been on the road with Dad, I think to SXSW to hear some awful new bands. She got to hang out with her Asian-ish friend Ronald, but really the main event was her new boots by Maison Martin Margiela, available now at net-a-porter for $1245.00

Do we think that these boots were a free gift from Martin Margiela? Because otherwise, the shoe bill in this family for just the last month is astronomical. Oh well, what’s money, right?  In other news, Sea is super excited about being identified as a “pervert” on a fasion blog. She’s really arrived! She’s practically Madonna! It’s fun to have a naughty reputation! Plus, you can keep hoarding shoes while you cultivate the pervert thing!

I’m getting tired of Sea, to tell you the truth. I only want to keep a tab on the shoe expenditure. The story seems to have stalled, hasn’t it? I need some plot development, some forward movement. I might have to start inventing a narrative for Sea and Mom unless they can crank up the pace.

Sea doesn’t care what you think. She wants you to look at her and her expensive shoes, to hear about Ronnie and all the nice hotels she stays in, but if you have an opinion you can fucking well keep it to yourself. Or, you can leave it here. I will go first:

Dear Sea, I am losing interest in you but all is not lost. Mom’s gigantic metal beetle belt is making me think that maybe Mom is the real story here. Would you feel bad if I start making up adventures for you and Mom? I could have Carol appear at the end of each one to deliver a moral lesson. Think it over. Love, SW.  P.S. Enough with the red hair.

Several readers told me to go check out Mom of Shoes‘ new boots, so naturally I was curious enough to take a look. I left a nice comment but guess what? She deleted it! And not only that, she deleted another comment by someone else, who merely said she wasn’t crazy about the boots. Very, very sad.

Why have comments if you only print the supportive ones?!? What’s the point?

I wish I could remember my exact words! They were something like, “Don’t you worry that thigh high stiletto boots worn with fur will bring to mind hookers?” Then I added that every day, I myself have to fight off the temptation to dress like a prostitute or schoolgirl.

It’s not like I know a better way to wear thigh high boots. When I posted this photo back in October of 2008, a reader told me I looked like a drag queen.

I know Mom will be reading this, so let me just say:  Dear Mom, I was trying to be playful! You can dress like a hooker if you want! It’s better than looking like a drag queen, right? I hope you’re not mad about that awful bell-sleeved coat, because you’ll still make a bundle of money on it.  Love, SW

Aren’t you guys sick of seeing the studded Isabel Marant booties that cost around $1,200?  Now you can have the satisfaction of knowing that this knockoff version is almost identical.  I hate both versions at this point, but that’s because I am (1) destitute and (2) crippled.

I hope someone hurries up and knocks off those huge Acne platform wedges.  Quick, Steve Madden and Jeffrey Campbell!

The sight of these boots from the new 80/20 lookbook triggered a variety of feelings, like OH NO, will I start wanting these? and ending with, Would Rumi wear them? From now on, when I evaluate footwear, I’m going to apply the Rumi test.  If the answer seems like Yes, they are automatically off my agenda.

What about these Jeffrey Campbell gladiator sandals. If you can’t tell whether something is a sandal or boots, that could be a bad sign. I think I like these anyway. They’re only $180. If only they were $475,  I’d LOVE them and fret about them  You know exactly what I mean, right?

Hahaha!  $950 at Bergdorf Goodman.

But why stop there?

This insanely chic leather Crusader Helmet is only $80.  Or imagine the envious looks you’ll get by rocking this Greek Spartan Helmet?

It’s on sale for $199.

Admit that you’re smitten. This shit is epic.

Okay, so I bought another pair of black boots but I swear to god this is the last time. I can actually walk in them because of the big hidden platform. Not that I’ll wear them or anything, but if I did, I’d be capable of walking.

I saw them at Oak but I decided to look around and found them for $86 less at Karmaloop.com, which turned out to be an eye-popping bonanza of cool and awful delights. I love this model, who’s kind of a gangsta Amy Winehouse with bulging implants.

Not only that, but there are Tripp jeans in every possible variety of plaid, vinyl, and leopard print, as well as basic black. The jewelry includes a necklace that says “I Love Me” in braille. Better yet is this fake Chanel chain belt by a brand called Office Tramp.

This bondagey leather belt thing reminds me of Susie B’s cage skirt, and from behind it appears to be an effective butt-lifter, too.

Even if you’ve sworn off shopping or you’re way too old to dress like a slut or a homegirl, it’s fun to click your way through so much wacky and inappropriate merchandise. Plus, everything is 30% off.

The first time I saw this boot at Barneys online, I was truly stunned by its awfulness. What could be uglier?!  Wasn’t Louboutin supposed to be the holy grail of footwear?!

I even tried to find it again to show my BFF, but I forgot where I’d seen it. Tonight, I came across it again, and it still fills me with horror and wonder. What is the point of this boot? What a fucking monstrosity! And look at the price! Even Kate Moss herself couldn’t pull off something this grotesque.

And then it came to me: This boot would be good for throwing at George Bush! Imagine it hurtling through the air, it’s purple fringes flying, as it makes its way to its deserving target. Now, I see its beauty. I feel like Edward Teller!

Now, can someone give me $1,575 plus tax?

Dear Madge,

I’ve always hated you but for once you’ve made me happy.  First, because while posing for a picture of my big biker boots, I realize that I’m five years older than you and I never exercise. Ha ha, all that time and torture, you could have been sitting around on your ass and still look okay!

Much more important, Madge, you announced your divorce just when this great country of our needs an intervention. The election is ruining our days and haunting our dreams. Nothing short of your break-up with Guy could have diverted my attention from the horror that is John McCain and Mrs. Palin. Just this short break from the every day grind of fear and loathing has been a tonic!

I’ve been longing for this divorce since the day you got married. It proves that you can’t just move into an English manor and adopt a silly accent and expect people to forget what an annoying egomaniac you are. You’ve got half a billion dollars and you still can’t figure anything out! All Guy wanted was to get to make his gangster movies and have a couple of pints at night with his mates, but no, you couldn’t let him be happy.

You had to go fill your cheeks up with Sculptra and steal a black baby and run around in your leotard instead of turning your attention to poor Guy. You had to spend every day with Gwyneth in the gym, bitching about fame and making her lose weight. You had to make everybody go all Kabbalah, even your innocent kids, and then you had to go and fuck a married baseball player.

FIne, we know how much you love Latinos and sports stars but Madge, you ruined Guy’s reputation as a director and then you made him fly to New York to pretend things were cool! What is it exactly that you want, besides big muscles and and Ed Hardy tracksuits?

Whatever it is, I hope you never get it. You’ve been a constant irritant in the oyster of my life, without producing one single pearl, unless you count my abiding hatred as a precious gem. I’ve hated you through every one of your phases, and I know I’ll hate you in perpetuity. If the sun rises, I’ll hate you, is what I’m trying to say.

Thank you Madonna for letting us change the subject, however briefly, and for teaching us the true meaning of schadenfreude.