Conquering Fear

shirt - vintage // skirt - FancyFine vintage // sandals - asos // straw tote - Target (two dollars, y'all!)

There are two important things happening here: one, I have once again dared to venture near the taco truck that almost killed my boyfriend, and two, I'm wearing sandals. 

This taco truck is right across the street from our apartment. It's hard not to eat there, even though it pales in comparison to the many taco trucks we were blessed by in our old Echo Park neighborhood of Los Angeles. But one day, not even falfway through a chicken torta, the mister threw it out, noting that it was stuffed what is known as goober-chicken or wiggly-chicken—the cheap, fat-ridden dregs of the bird suitable only for making the pink goo that goes into mcnuggets and such. Sure enough, he was treated to twenty-four hours of sweat inducing vomiting and nausea. I'm not going to lie, sometimes I'm still tempted to get couple tacos from there because they're so cheap and it's right across the street and they're open until 3 am, but that's just because I'm an absolute horror of a human being. I really only go there to buy bottles of Mexican Coca-Cola, which is harder to find up here than it is in LA. 

Now. I don't categorically despise the entire facet of footwear known as sandals, but I tend to avoid them, because it's hard to find a pair that flatters the terrifying mutant appendages known as my feet. I wear a lot of weird heels; I walk around in them as long as I can stand it because I don't have a car, and after a few years of this the heels have taken their toll (I knew I crossed a line, some one-way bridge of Gross Womanhood, when the ladies at the nail salon started slapping on latex gloves before administering my pedicure). It's either sexy shoes or sexy feet, I say, you can't have it both ways. I have chosen the former, but summer brings on new sets of problems trying to find comfortable, casual, breathable shoes for the day. These jobbies were on sale at ASOS and so far have addressed every aspect of my sandal-fear. I like that they're relatively simple, they cover the portion of my feet I hate the most, the gold color looks good next to my skin, and they go with just about everything. I cannot stress what a huge leap of confidence it is that I let someone get this near to my nearly naked feet with a camera. Who knows what's next—maybe it's time to give that wiggly-chicken another shot.