Who cares how much advice I toss around; my words are usually dead on. Today’s comments are directed toward footwear and preparation. If you are ever asked to attend a gathering, party, barbecue, or date, say yes then ask in response what shoes to wear. This advice is nearly as important as the sunscreen one.
Great advice, Mary Schmich (and thank you, Baz Luhrmann and Bill Barminski for your commitment to American consciousness and art). I know my friends and I try to recall this wisdom as we have moved from our college days through the 20s to now. Fortunately, I have not lost my knees (“you’ll miss them when they’re gone”).
Instead, I ruined my gait for a couple of weeks because I did not ask what shoes I should wear to a tea party that I would be attending with two friends. What a mistake.
First, there was no actual tea party; one of the attendees to the day’s invitation got that part wrong. Instead of a quiet, genial, cottage tea replete with bone china and Earl Grey, I drove up to the parking area of the Minnesota Renaissance Festival. Natalie, how did you get “tea party” out of that?
Second, I dressed as a silly attendee to a silly tea. My concept of silly was depicted as a sleeveless house dress, full make-up, gold-sequin-Minnie Mouse ears, and a pair of Lindsay Phillips. 
However, the Ren Festival folks wore either circa 1312 peasant garb (think Braveheart), 1907 circus garb (think Ali Baba), or fairies/sprites garb (think A Midsummer Night’s Dream at a 2001 rave). Honestly, other attendees of the Ren Fest looked like Romanian gypsies from the last century, while I looked like Dallas DuBois.
Third, my footwear choice hindered enjoyment of the day. As Minnie Mouse (and maybe RuPaul?) could agree, my Lindsay Phillips are fantastic shoes. I wear them to church in the summer and to any event that needs a bit of a heel while strutting the casual. Since the house dress I wore to the festival was vintage, flour-sack beige, I chose the brown-yellow-azure flowers with the brown stone button on top to apply to my fabulous shoes. But in my beloved short-heels, I rolled my feet several times, slopped through mud patches, and collected grass blades and other fragments of outdoor flooring under my soles.
They say the world belongs to those who show up. I say those who show up need sensible shoes to remain in power.
XOXO, Natalie, Lizzy, Fairy #6, and me
ctolle 