I was kind of bummed out this weekend, so I did what any redblooded American woman does when she’s bummed out: I went to buy shoes.
Specifically, I bought myself a pair of fuzzy boots, which are NOT Uggs, thank you very much, but rather very cool, hip boots that Kate Hudson would never, ever wear with a mini-skirt.
I’d seen them in the Tannery in Harvard Square the week before, and hadn’t bought them, because they were too much money and also because they were made of rabbit fur. When I went back to buy them, I still had some doubts.
“Can I really buy something made out of rabbit fur?” I asked my sister.
“You eat meat, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then…” She reached out and stroked the toe of the boot. “EW! You can, like, feel its SKIN.”
“I know.”
She paused. “But they’re so cute!”
In the end, cute won out, as it always does. I have very few principles that I hold more dear than cute. And after all, as Mrs. Piddlington pointed out, I eat meat.
Of course, cows don’t twitch their noses in an adorable fashion, but hey.
Jennie Smash 