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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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Northeastern crybabies and black boots

That near-apocalyptic weather system that caused news stations to design special logos and to assemble crack teams of North Face-clad reporters?

Bah.

It was cold and it snowed consistently from Saturday afternoon until Sunday morning. Pardon me for sounding stupid, but isn’t it Winter? Doesn’t it generally get frosty and windy at this time of year? In this part of the country at least? Don’t I see a lot of all-wheel drive Subarus and Saabs on the roads?

I thought New Englanders were made of hardier stock. From my corner of the world (Peck + Blatchley) they all sound like a bunch of whiners. When I went out on Saturday (to run errands in downtown NH, all bundled up,) half the shops were closed “due to inclement weather.” Sure it was snowing, but it wasn’t “Snowbound: The Jim and Jennifer Stolpa Story” or “Alive”-types of conditions.

Anyway.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what I should wear to the Swiss wedding, and I’ve decided that it doesn’t matter so long as I get new black boots.

The entire outfit will be crafted around the boots. The boots will anchor mon look.

I’m going to shop next week in Manhattan, and foot injury be damned, I am going to try on lots and lots of boots. So many boots do I intend to test out that even I will sicken myself.

A girl’s gotta have goals.

I hate to slavishly copy a celebrity, but I have been inspired by, of all people, her Madgeness. I spent a lot of time in airports last week, a lot of time perusing nefarious publications (UsWeekly, People, InStyle) and in all the images, Madonna is wearing the same black Jimmy Choo boots. Her outfits all change, of course, but the shoes remain a constant and I have to say: it works. It makes flouncy boring dresses automatically look a little edgier, it makes her Chanel trench look more polished, it even adds a soupçon of I don’t know what to her Versace getup.

Did you see her performing her (weak) rendition of Imagine on the Tsunami Relief concert/show?

Three words, my friends. Jimmy. Choo. Boots.

There they were, self-righteously walking around that stage singing about compassion and understanding, all the while proclaiming their street toughness and urban cachet! Unlike the others they’d do anything! They’re not the same, they have no shame. They’re on fire!

I’m sure once she got backstage, she doused them in Kabbalah water to cool off. I would have. Naughty boots.

10:16 a.m. - 2005-01-24

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