We all have bizarre idiosyncrasies that emerge when we see someone attractive on the street/train/dance floor/toilet. I have friends who notice height first, others who notice the eyes. I usually look at shoes first. I’m not proud of this, but a girl’s gotta have standards. You can be a total knock down drag out take off my pants right now and howl in the middle of Graham Avenue babe but if I look down and yr wearing bad shoes, deal breaker dude. Steve Maddens, are you fucking kidding me? Mandals. Just give me a hysterectomy right now! Running shoes? I’m happy you exercise but paired with yr skinny jeans you kinda look like a lesbian bartender. Seriously, HOW HARD ARE A PAIR OF VANS!?! They aren’t even expensive!
*Photo courtesy of Lauren Wilkinson, the great American hero who risked her life to take this photo on the L train. His shoes devoured her moments after. RIP Wilkes. I hope yr making dick jokes in heaven.
Not pictured: dead bodies in basement, stack of Tiger Beat in trunk
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