A little sample of some Key West Christmas cheer. Photo by Marilyn Kaple

Despite the fact that this week’s temperatures have stayed around 80 degrees in Key West, I cannot help but find myself running the lyrics of White Christmas inside my head.  And if the weather predictions prove accurate, it seems most of the country will also be only dreaming of White Christmas this year.  It might not be too hard to imagine a Christmas without snow as winter has only started, but perhaps a Christmas in shorts would be a little harder for most to picture. 

Despite the hustle and bustle of the season and the warm breezes off the ocean, I often find my Key West Christmas is just as traditional as the white ones I used to have back in Ohio.  True, there is almost no chance of snow this Christmas—or any other day in Key West—and if there is, I will have to talk with my real estate agent immediately! Nonetheless, Christmas and its spirit are alive and well on my island.

Lights are wrapped around the trunks of palm trees and glow against the white picket fences that line the sidewalks.  Poinsettias are abundant on the large wrap-around porches and more than a few locals choose to put their Christmas tree outside as well.  Neighbors sit on their porches and shout a cheerful hello and offer a glass of holiday cheer as friends stroll by in their short sleeves and Santa caps.  Sure we are a little heavy with the rum in the eggnog but you have to get those spirits in you somehow. 

Trolleys filled with carolers drive down the streets ringing their bells joyfully.  Families and friends often gather along the street to shout cheer back.  Little Key West kids might never make snow angels but they do know that Santa sometimes arrives by boat, and a mojito rather than glass of milk might improve your chances of being listed on the “Nice List.”

It’s true a warm, wool scarf will likely not be needed this holiday season in Key West and it might look very strange to throw one around your neck with your tank top—or to pair your knee-high boots with shorts; but it is the season to embrace Santa’s fashion sense.  There won’t be a need for snowsuits but you might need some special red shoes to wear to the lighted boat parade.

And while my Key West Christmas might be different from the ones I had when I was little in Ohio, at the end of the night I can see my neighbors’ Christmas lights glowing through my window, reminding me of the lights that used to shine on the Christmas tree outside our bedroom doors when I was little.  Yes, Christmas is different now as a Key Wester and as an adult.  It seems that days are more filled with things to do and less with celebration and carols.  But there is still magic in the days leading up to Christmas, still a bit of cheer reserved only for December days.

This year for many around the world the holiday might be a little different.  Some stocking might not be stuffed quite as full; perhaps there will be a few less wrapped packages under the tree, and maybe a smiling face from years past will not be there to share the day.  I know for myself and others that hopes for a better 2012 will be at the top of our lists.  Yet, if the spirit of the season can be found under palm fronds and on sailboats, it surely can be found anywhere a heart is willing to embrace it. 

And though I will not see snow this year, I still hear Bing Cosby’s wishes for a white Christmas.  So wherever this Christmas blog finds you, I will end it with hopes that all your days be merry and bright, and that all of your Christmas be…worth singing about.

Happy Birthday, Shoe Girl!  Here’s one of your gifts—I will do this week’s blog for you!

Three decades ago this week, the Island Shoe Girl made her debut on a snowy day typical of December in OH! – IO! First of all, this means I must have been a child/mother. (My friends can stop gagging!) Secondly, after two big brothers, this was my last chance to ‘think pink’—these were the days before ultrasounds eliminated that suspense. And finally there was someone to be “daddy’s cutie pie girl”, as she often referred to herself.  (A title she still holds.)

One of her father’s favorite Jimmy Buffett lines used to be, “Little Miss Magic, what’cha going to be? / Little Miss Magic, just can’t wait to see.”

People are sometimes surprised Little Miss Magic became the Shoe Girl who ended up on an island far from Ohio, working with homeless women and children.  Those who know her background shouldn’t be too surprised; in fact, we should have seen it coming.  Every facet of her life today was born and developed in her growing-up years, so we really should have known….

We should have known she would live in Key West.  In 5^th grade she wrote a biography assignment on Jimmy Buffett, titled “My Tropical Hero”.  During high school, she was quick to claim the ticket to a re-scheduled JB concert I could not use; hence, the first Father-Daughter Parrothead evening.  In college she managed to disguise her crutches as shark fins for a concert soon after her first foot surgery.

We should have known she would work with women and children.  From junior high through grad school she was the ultimate babysitter and part-time nanny.  The nearby university School of Nursing & Health asked her to participate on their advisory board for a project on teenage pregnancy awareness.  Her keepsake box is full of certificates of recognition and thanks for her time and energy for various service projects.

We should have known she would manage residential services.  The Shoe Girl’s graduate assistant duties included acting as a supervisor for a large co-ed residence hall.  Working with her client families today is nothing compared to a floor full of football players.  She learned every trick for trying to sneak into or out of a dorm late at night—no one can pull a fast one on her now!

We should have known she would be a constant fundraiser.  Remember that Tropical Hero biography?  She turned it into a fundraiser among her classmates for ‘Friends of Florida’, a Buffett project at that time.  When it was time for the annual Powder Puff football game during her junior year, she worried that the un-sanctioned game in a city park was becoming too aggressive.  She lobbied school administration to make it a sponsored event in the stadium one evening during Homecoming Week and organized it so a nominal admission fee went to the fund for Track & Field renovations.  During one college summer as a camp counselor, she posted the need for craft supplies on a Coconut Telegraph chat page and got enough supplies to last most of the summer, to the amazement of her fellow staff.

We should have known she’d become a media commentator on shoes and fashion.  She has known the value of a total look from the time she could say the words.  When her Nana fueled the fire with a new dress and hat and purse, the soon-to-be shoe girl added her own white gloves, ‘lacy’ socks, ‘shiny’ shoes, and sunglasses—and turned heads in church!  In a now-famous story, the first time we allowed her to pack her own suitcase for spring break at the beach, she put in a couple pairs of shorts, three swimsuits, several pairs of sunglasses, and seven pairs of shoes—and that was all!  In grade school she did in-store modeling for Limited Too and later served on a Teen Fashion Board at the mall. For her senior prom, she gave a seamstress movie clips to help the woman create a gown darn close to Grace Kelly’s dress in To Catch a Thief.

We should have known that our shoe girl would become a compassionate, caring person who always expected the best from everyone.  Just before her high school graduation, she wrote a short essay just to verbalize some of her feelings.  In it she said, “Above all else, I learned that wonderful, amazing things are happening around me every day and all I have to do is look.”

So Happy Birthday, Little Miss Magic!  Now we know what you’re going to be:  FABULOUS

Shoes to write home about. Photo by Jean Thornton.

This week the United States Post Office announced sweeping changes in an effort to save the Post Office from bankruptcy.  While many think these changes will perhaps only delay mail service and increase the cost of stamps, I am fearful that perhaps the art of writing a letter could be real victim.  This week I am re-posting about the style of writing a letter.  Perhaps it will inspire you to write one or two…

Dear Sir or Madame,

This week I am taking a moment to write to you about an element of style that one will not find in your closet, dresser, or jewelry box.   I am stomping my stilettos for a piece of good taste and elegance that is fading.  OurUnited States’ Post Office is in jeopardy of becoming extinct and with it the tradition of handwritten letters are going too.  While this may not seem like a fashion issue, good manners and proper correspondence are always in style.  Just like a pair of black patent leather pumps, a hand-written letter delivered by our friendly postal person is a classic reflection of American chic-ness. 

Now I am the first person to admit that the Post Office has frustrated me in the past.  I will not dredge up issues that are better left among junk mailings from Pier One; but it is enough to say that I have also been frustrated by increased postage rates, long lines to mail a present, and even a random and confusing re-direction of my mail one November.  But today I come to you to plead the case of mail in its purest form: the letter. 

Remember when mail was fun?  When it was all birthday cards and postcards from friends on vacations?  When you opened a letter from your grandmother and a well-worn five dollar bill fell out?  Those were the days before our mailboxes contained credit card bills and cell phone statements, when we were not constantly bombarded with promises of lower insurance rates and 20% off coupons from Bed,Bath, and Beyond….honestly who is buying that much stuff for the bed or bath, or beyond?

In these modern days when many of us carry our Blackberries and I-Phones loaded with our multiple email accounts, the ability to text message and even Facebook, it is clear why many have abandoned the art of old-fashioned letter writing.  Most of us may struggle to even find a stamp when it comes time to respond to the rare bill that is not accepted by online payment.  Convenience is killing letter writing. 

I am not proclaiming that we hearken back to the old days of pressing a wax seal against the lip of an envelope, but there is value beyond the current rate of postage in writing an occasional letter or two.  A handwritten letter is like the perfect Hermes bag or a simple strand of pearls; it is the difference between an outfit and “a look.”  Like Jackie O’s oversized glasses, a graceful slopping cursive ‘M’ starting a Mrs., Mr., Miss., or Ms. and the ending a flourish after a zip code scribed across a small, colored envelop is  a demonstration of taste.

Think of the cards you have tucked into drawers, hidden in the back of yearbooks and photo albums.  What do they say; what moments do they commemorate?  Perhaps there is a graduation announcement from high school next to the card your grandmother wrote, expressing her pride and hope for your future.  Maybe there is a birthday card from a college friend who time has separated from you.  If you are lucky, there might be a love letter of sorts from a flame possibly extinguished now, or it represents a love still strong.  One day, sadly, these letters and the words scribbled on Hallmark Cards and stationary could be the only sample of handwriting left by those who loved us the most.  And long after we can’t hear them say our names or “I love you”, we hold onto those declarations and the everyday statements quickly jotted at the end of note meant just to say hello.

And while there are cards that you surely have saved, if you are lucky there are cards you have sent that are equally treasured by those recipients.   The card we mailed to mark a holiday or other special moment for a loved one, may just be the simple gesture that brings a smile to our grandparents’, parents’, or siblings’ faces.  Ask any solider and I am sure they will tell you that a letter, simple and thoughtful, from someone back home describing ordinary moments is worth far more than 44¢. 

Since the days of the Pony Express there has been nothing more worth the wait than a piece of mail sent, not because it requires urgent attention, but because it is meant to share or perhaps provide some cheer.  Yes, there is great importance in the mail; it says things we did not realize we want to say.  There might be quicker, easier ways to communicate in a world of Skype and internet hype.  Waiting at the Post Office may cause us to tap our pumps and shift in our sling-backs; use your Blackberry to pass the time.  Trust me, the minutes spent there will be worth continuing the tradition and art of writing a letter, and it will certainly keep you classically stylish. 

Sincerely,

The Island Shoe Girl XOXO

Who would skip an ad for these fabulous heels? Photo by Jean Thornton

As a die-hard fashion lover, I digest my fair share of fashionable reading.  It ranges from glossy-paged magazines, to biographies on designers, to blogs, to online magazines and newspapers that proclaim to be the end all guide for all of my fashion needs.  All of these fashion sources have a cost and some have a significant amount of advertisement.  Now I love a shoe advertisement probably far more than the next girl, but some of these ads are simply out of control.

I understand completely that nothing comes for free.   There is no free ride on the catwalk of life and delivering fashion insight and news is certainly no exception.  But at times I feel that these ads have spiraled out of control.  No matter if I am reading—the Fashion section of the New York Times or skimming a website—it seems that I cannot avoid an advertiser intruding on my pleasure time. 

When it comes to magazines I will gladly pay a price to have fashion at my finger tips, ready whenever I need it whether that be on a plane, on a train, or while waiting for a doctor’s appointment.  Tell me as many times as you want about the convenience of an electronic book, you will not win over this lover of pages.  It’s like telling me to wear a ballet flat; sorry, I am a stiletto girl and there’s no way around it.  Just the same, I am a real live paper-between-my-fingers girl.  (Plus, I think one of the most stylish accessories is a book cover that reveals a little bit about its reader.)

The advantage of advertisements in print is the ease with which one can choose to stop and observe or move along.  Some fashion advertisements are as informative, thought provoking, and attractive as some articles and photo spreads in those same magazines.  There is also the added bonus of being able to fold down a corner on the ad for those new Prada pumps with a casually scribbled shoe size for subtle birthday shopping hints. 

As a little girl I loved newspaper ads.  I would sprawl on the family room floor each Sunday and look through all the shopping flyers that were stuffed inside our Sunday paper, planning an imaginary shopping trip to my favorite stores.  Of course as an adult many times these are still imaginary trips since living on a mall-less island prevents such weekend shopping sprees.  Yet, these advertisements fuel my luxury-filled dreams. 

But in today’s online world, the happy web surfer is bombarded with advertisements.  Try to read a story online about Elizabeth Taylor’s Estate Auction and you’ll find yourself bidding on ways to avoid pop-up ads.  Some of the pop-ups even have pop-ups!  One advertisement blocking my view had the nerve to say “your requested video will play in 5 seconds” as it download an unwanted image onto my screen.  My requested video!  When did I click the “annoy me with advertisements” box?

Not only do these advertisements insert themselves into my online life, they almost stalk me across the World Wide Web.  Look at a Kate Spade bag online this morning but don’t be shocked if an ad for it lingers along the side of your inbox while you check your email.  And that cute little clutch just might follow you to your favorite gossip site as well.  Next thing you know that bag is stalking you when you Google driving directions. 

Perhaps these advertisements wouldn’t be so frustrating if some sites did not limit your time without a subscription.  So after clicking “skip this ad” twenty times while trying to read up on this winter’s scarf trends, you get a notice that says, “Your free views have been exceeded for the month, click here to subscribe for unlimited access.”  And thus another advertisement has blocked me from my supposedly free reading.  Of course if you add up all the time I spent clicking ‘close’, ‘skip this ad’, or suffering through an annoying advertisement for something I don’t really want, I have more than paid for the pleasure of reading that article. 

Thus a shoe girl like me resorts back to good old-fashioned….fashion magazines.  Sure there are still advertisements and I run the risk of paper cuts, but at least I can drool over Chanel mules without a pop-up advertisement offering to tell me the meaning of my name.  The only name I want to know the meaning of is the one stamped on the soles of my stilettos.  And that you can advertise!

Shoes to get you to cocktail hour, to the airport and to unload a truck in. Photo by Jean Thornton

I am one of those people who can never be too far from lines of communication.  My Blackberry is generally very close by.  Of course this being a modern world, most of the world is connected to me through this genius of a product.   Any chime, ring or vibration produces a level of curiosity that forces me to look and see what the latest update is.   In this handy gadget is both great freedom and great restraints all at once.  I am never truly unreachable and never completely disconnected.  I can check my email about the latest shoe sale, Google the comparable prices, and then update my Facebook status to “Stylish.” 

In other words, my technology keeps me extremely connected, as was the case last weekend.   At one point I had three chimes, rings and tones on my Blackberry, each different but all making me realize something about how others view me.   The first was a friend texting me to ask if I would like to meet up for a cocktail that evening—a pretty standard invite, but a meaningful one since I believe that it is the casual gatherings that usually are the most fun. 

The second was a request from another friend who was returning to Key West and needed a ride from the airport.  Thankfully Key West is small and the airport is very manageable for pick-ups and drop-offs.  Any Key Wester with a car is happy to play taxi driver rather then have friends pay for the ride, and generally there is a thank you drink involved.  Beyond that I am happy to help this friend out and pleased to be the first to greet her in Key West, especially since she is my main shoe photographer!  Hey—a shoe girl has got to protect her team. 

The last phone call was a little different.  As a shoe girl and a case manager at a homeless shelter, I am accustomed to strange phone calls.  I can receive calls ranging from Chanel spotted in a consignment shop to a homeless mother in desperate need of housing.  And I do my best to resolve both.  But this past week I got a phone about a large food donation.  Okay food donations are generally pretty easy to resolve as most items can just be quickly dropped off to our food pantry.  This, however, was a much larger donation—a whole semi truck loaded not just with non-perishable food items but also with fresh fruits, bread, and similar that needed to be used very soon. 

A shoe girl in her trusty platform heels with a blackberry is practically unstoppable.  With a few phone calls, a little bit of pleading, and some very good volunteers, all the food was being dispersed to food pantries and soup kitchens within two hours.  And while I was tired from my unexpected Saturday afternoon adventure with food distribution, I was also proud of myself for being the person who could solve such a problem while helping others. 

Looking back on these three requests I realized something about myself and others.  When a friend invites you for a drink it means they enjoy your company, they see you as a positive addition to their day.   When a friend asks you to pick them up at the airport, you know they think you are reliable, someone they can depend on to be there for them at the end of a long journey.  But when you are asked to make something happen—like distributing a few tons of food—you know that they trust to do the right thing… you are someone who can make things happen.

At the end of the any day, my Blackberry always has a long list of who has called, who has been called, who texted or emailed, and any Facebook updates.  Sometimes, however, it is not so much the words and messages exchanged that matters most.  Sometimes it is understanding why you were chosen to receive the message that says it all.

An important life lesson...a Manolo can go a long way. Photo by Jean Thornton.

The other day an acquaintance at a meeting casually mentioned that she would be catching up on some shows on her DVR.  When I asked what shows she had on stand by (expecting something of quality viewing like some of the Real Housewives franchise), she told that she was watching Oprah’s Life Lessons.   This caught my interest because I had thought the competition between Oprah and I for who would be America’s most influential woman was at a standstill with the end of her show. 

But Oprah has restarted the race with her new show, which just so happens to be on her own television station, OWN.  If you ask me, this comes across as a little “me-ish”.  Apparently, one of the OWN’s shows is Oprah sitting around talking about her talk show and what she learned from each episode…a little life lesson!  Get it?  If not, I am sure Oprah will sit down and talk you through it.  Similarly, if you didn’t get the extremely high level of thought Oprah used in her afternoon talk show, she will break it down for you to a level even easier for you to comprehend. 

I must admit I have never watched one of Oprah’s Life Lessons.  I somehow have a feeling that these lessons would not be very helpful in my own life, seeing as how Oprah and I have a vast differences in our lifestyles, our economic standing, and more than likely, Oprah’s closet is the size of my entire apartment…in her weekend house.  I am guessing that the overall lesson of Life Lessons is that Oprah can get people to watch reruns of her talk show, sell advertisements for it like it’s a new show, and make even more money without very high production costs. 

I figure if Oprah can do it then why not me?  Okay, not me because first of all, I don’t have my own television show, let alone television network.  Secondly because I don’t think I have the same following. I am basing this on the fact that when I recommend a book, I generally lend it to a friend, not make it a best seller.   However, I do have this blog; so I figure this can be the starting point of my own set of life lessons…take that Oprah!

Life Lesson #1:  Once you start buying designer shoes, it’s hard to go back.  This can be an expensive lesson to learn.  Let’s face it, once you go Manolo, you can’t go back.  When you become accustomed to nicer and nicer things it’s hard to appreciate the slightly less nice things.  So take your time when acquiring more expensive shoes; like growing up too fast, you can’t go back once you’ve worn a Prada pump.

Life Lesson #2:  There’s always a bigger shoe closet out there.  You might think you might have the biggest or the best shoe closet, but let’s face it—somewhere out there is a bigger, better shoe closet.  You can’t compare your shoe closets to others; it will only frustrate you.  Instead seek to create the shoe closet that makes you happy.

Life Lesson #3:  A good cobbler is a hard to find.  There are some things in life that are plentiful: cheap wine, red nail polish, and Lifetime movies.  But cobblers are like parking spaces—you can’t find a good one when you really need it.  A cobbler should be treated like a good friend…good friends that can save your favorite pair of Stuart Weitzman’s.  And really, if you have a friend that can do that, you are a lucky girl.

My 4th and final Life Lesson: Never give away all your lessons at once!  Hey! A girl’s gotta keep a few tricks up her sleeve or in her knee-high boots.  If I give them all away here and now, why would you keep coming back to this blog?  I am sure Oprah has a whole vault of her life lesson programs tucked away somewhere in case she needs a Christmas Special or something.  Besides aren’t the best lessons in life the ones you learn on your own… notice that’s a little ‘own’ and not Oprah’s OWN.

The Croc of the week goes to vampires.  I am so tired of hearing about vampires this week!  First it was the whole gothic thing, then wizards and now it vampires with an occasional werewolf thrown in.  And let’s face it these are in even cool Interview with a Vampire vampires these are sad teenagers in love vampires.  Honestly, I am ready for the next fad…oh wait that is suppose to be Hunger Games, not sure I am ready for the ultimate survival trend just yet.

Shoes worth remembering. Photo by Jean Thornton.

Recently I had to make an unplanned move; luckily I found a great apartment near the Key West Cemetery… a coveted neighborhood. The cemetery is really the only one in Key West and certainly the only one accepting new inhabitants.  As is true with many old cemeteries, the graves are not all neatly in line, and some sections look like they have been tussled around in a hurricane or two.  Being an island cemetery there is also a limit on how deep one can dig and how many can be fit into one plot, so many graves are actually stacked on top of one another. 

This not only makes the cemetery visually interesting to explore, it also provides ample amounts of reading while I walk my dog along the perimeter.  Apparently cemeteries have very interesting smells for dogs because mine never seems to get tired of sniffing the fence as we walk by.  This also means I spend a lot of time trying to keep him from using the bathroom on any graves near the fence.  The various headstones are also thought provoking; no I do not ponder the value of life, the passing of time, or my own mortality.  More often I think of what will become of the remains of this shoe girl. 

I already have a lengthy after-life plan for my shoes; and even with that, I still fret over what will become of those poor little soles if my wishes are not respected.  But what happens to the shoe girl after that bright white light?  What becomes of the girl who walked far more than a mile in stilettos?

During my strolls along the cemetery, it is easy to contemplate moving into the most exclusive neighborhood in Key West, yet I worry about whether or not I could even get in.   Heck, it was hard to find an apartment within two blocks!  Who wouldn’t want to be there; it’s quiet, good security, regular landscaping—no wonder folks are dying to get in. (I couldn’t resist.) 

There is also the advantage of a gravestone, which has your epitaph and is really the only way to get the last word.  Of course, I am jealous of the epitaph Carrie Bradshaw predicted for herself, “Here lies Carrie, two great loves and lots of shoes.”  My friend Key West Lou once said, “Stephanie does, as Stephanie does” and I thought that might be an excellent epitaph.  Might sum up my life really well.   I do request that it not say that I have passed too soon or indicate I deserved more years.  I soon will be thirty and I feel I have already had a very good run; let’s face it most of the characters on Little House on The Prairie died before they were 30.  At this rate, I have outlived about 30% of the Walnut Grove townspeople. 

But I am not narcissistic enough to hope that generations to come will stand over my grave and weep for my lost life.  I am also not one to believe the soul is attached to my body.  I suppose dedicating my body to science might be a good idea.  But I would only be okay with that happening if I die in incredibly great shape; that is—only if I am exiting a plastic surgeon’s office for my last follow-up visit when I drop dead or if I might be laid out for viewing by group of young doctors.  And if the plastic surgeon did a really good job, flip me over and show off that awesome butt I paid for too.

Perhaps the only option for me would be cremation.  I think this is the more modern means to an end.  Of course I do not want to necessarily be put in an urn and displayed on a mantel or library shelf.  My mother has always insisted on dusting, so I doubt that my sitting around being dust would go over well with her.  She might even come back and haunt my ashes, which would just be absurd. 

When it comes to spreading my ashes, I have some slight concerns.  Let’s says I am spread near a favorite bar and a few years later it becomes a Hooters or the peaceful field later is developed into some type of flat shoe factory.  I would never be able to rest in peace and there would be no way to collect me and move me elsewhere.    Or what if somebody really obnoxious got dumped near me and for all eternity I have to hear them babble on?

It is beginning to look like cryogenically frozen is my best and only option—unless future generations thaw me out in a world filled with Crocs and Uggs.  The larger issue still remains that at the end of our lives the bodies we have worked for years to preserve and to present at their best becomes useless in many senses.  Perhaps on my future walks I should not think so much about what might become of me physically but instead focus more on what might become of my memory.  Sure, there could be shoe monuments built in my honor, but the best memorial might just be a plain-old good memories shared by loved ones.

It's survival of the fittest in these LAMB stilettos. Photo by Jean Thornton

They say that in moments of true emergency we are overcome with the unique ability to survive…but what about our shoes?  Occasionally I am asked about various shoe survival strategies.  Whether it’s avoiding blisters or how to walk in sand with heels, there is clearly a need for a guide to surviving life’s less shoe-friendly moments.  This week a reader emailed me asking my opinion on a film clip of women fleeing a sinking boat into shark infested waters.  Along the way at least one lost her shoes, begging the question how do your shoes survive an emergency?  Remember, I am only a professional shoe wearer, not a professional survival guide.

How to Survive a Bear Attack in Stilettos:

Even in the best of situations, out running a bear is unlikely and not advised.  In stilettos it’s probably never going to happen!  If you happen to have “Bear Spray” in your cute Coach clutch you can try spraying the bear.  Since I usually only carry a little Chanel Number 5, it would really have to be a classy bear to be subdued by this method.  Conventional bear escape wisdom advises laying stomach down with fingers laced over your neck and basically playing dead.  Seeing how even my Jack Russell Terrier has not mastered this game, I am not sure there is much hope for a really terrified shoe girl to do so calmly.  If by chance your freshly perfumed bear decides to wander away, stay on the ground for 20 minutes, which would be a good time to count your blessings and rethink this whole nature girl thing.

It’s important to note that bears, like shoes, come in many colors and styles.  The above tips are good for a Brown Bear.  When it comes to Blacks Bears it is supposedly better to fight back; maybe this is where pointy-spiked heels could come in handy.  With Polar Bears, you are pretty much screwed.  Due to declining sea ice, they are forced to hunt on solid ground.  Thus most are hungry and playing dead might just speed up the whole eating you process and fighting back might be equally fruitless.  In these cases, all I can say is why the heck are you near a polar bear in the first place, and I hope he doesn’t eat your designer heels too. 

How to Survive a Zombie Attack in Stilettos:

There are many schools of thought on the best way to survive a zombie attack.  The first debate might be whether to stay where you are or flee to safety… if safety is available. I mean, hey, who’s to say a zombie attack would be limited to one specific area.  If your home is super zombie secure and they cannot easily break windows and climb inside, you might just think about defending your home front and shoe closet.  If you choose to flee, consider that in most zombie movies your car keys are never where you put them last, so you might have to escape on foot, making a Kenneth Cole heel with the air soles much more attractive. 

Whether you are going to stay or go, you will need some survival items: plenty of fresh water, canned goods (& can opener, of course), flashlights, and some nail polish for touch-ups. (It’s a battle against the undead, but still no need to look unkempt).  You also have to think about shoe repair; a supply of replacement heel tips; and some super glue might come in handy.  If you are running for your life in stilettos, I recommend you run in Manolo’s.  Not only will a pair of Manolo’s offer you that classic chic style one wants when fleeing flesh-craving zombies, but they also are pretty darn comfortable.  I also suggest a pair of Mary Jane for the added support of an ankle strap. 

How to Survive an Emergency Plane Landing in Stilettos:

When Flight 1549 safely landed on the Hudson River after being struck by a flock of birds, many were overcome with amazement as 155 occupants were rescued from the plane’s wings.  While others praised God for sparing those souls, I found myself racked with worry over how I would have gotten my soles off a plane in such a situation. I could easily visualize myself telling dear Captain Sully I just needed a minute to grab my Prada pumps from my carry-on bag and then wobbling in my Dolce & Gabbana stilettos as I balanced on that plane wing.  

This is why I recommend keeping all of your shoes in a carry-on that can be stowed under the seat in front of you so you can easily grab them should an emergency landing become necessary.  Passports and credit cards can be replaced, vintage Jimmy Choo’s cannot.  If it should be necessary to use the inflatable slide, I suggest taking off those spiked heels prior to sliding.  No one likes a shoe girl who pops the emergency exit slide!

How to Survive a Sinking Boat and Shark Attack in Stilettos:

After reviewing this scenario in my head, I have to say I am not sure what advice to give.  Just trying to survive this scenario barefoot would be hard enough, but to keep on stilettos while trying to swim to dry land with a shark in pursuit just seems almost impossible.  So the best advice I can offer is to avoid boats in shark-infested waters if this situation concerns you.  You can’t win them all, at least not in stilettos. 

There you go—my survival guide for life in stilettos.  And please use common sense when applying these strategies.  After all, you are listening to a girl who considers not having enough red strappy heels an absolute crisis.

The Stiletto goes to Jessica Simpson and I am even throwing in a little baby stiletto too!  Jessica announced this week (after many photos implied she was) that she is having a baby.  Congrats Jessica on the little bundle of joy, if this baby is anything like your shoes I am going to love it!

The Croc is perhaps the last wedding gift Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries will be receiving and you can’t return this one!  After only 72 days the spotlight couple called it quits.  Good thing it lasted until after that E! Special aired.  After constant rumors and pictures surfaced of Kris without his wedding band it appears the dream is over.  A lot of couples struggle to keep a marriage together and they are certainly not the fastest celebrity divorce but when you have a 2 part wedding special you have to make it at least 6 months!  Although this does leave the option for a 2 part divorce special!