Sunday, August 23, 2009

The only doctor I will ever want.

I so badly wanted Dr. Martens boots back in my pubescent days. I associated them with Molly Ringwald and Annie Potts and rebelling against The Man; I distinctly remember finally buying a pair of red velvet ones in high school ...

... and wearing the hell out of them in college until I finally flipped them on eBay. I figured I'd need textbooks more than the shoes; I think I still regret that decision. Whomp whomp.

And the thing is, they have this timelessness and ability to be paired with girly stuff that nearly no other shoe company has - for example, some recent Jean-Paul Gaultier ads had the models sporting higher, 20-eyelet versions that Gaultier designed himself.

So when I saw these, I was pretty pressed. I was excited. I was about to spring the dough.

And then I remembered, in a corner of my packed-with-useless-information brain, that during an awful night of forced "Hannah Montana" watching, I noticed ...

... that Miley Cyrus wears them when she's in Hannah mode. And then, friends, it was all over. NAST. Will not buy. My hatred of Miley Cyrus knows no end, especially because this is her latest album cover for the "Times of Our Lives" EP:

No pole, I see. No short-shorts. No hint of a vaginal slip. I smell a hypocritical bitch, I think. JUST ACCEPT YOUR SLUTTINESS. Don't strap on a guitar and pretend to be Taylor Swift. I know you two are "friends" or whatever, but I'm sure she doesn't appreciate it, either.

+ Photos courtesy of SporkFashion, MashKulture Juicy, Karmaloop, SecondCityStyle, MTV

No comments:

Post a Comment