A Little Something for the Toms

Getting complimented on my shoes amongst a never-ending sea of ladies in Louboutins just may be the most glamorous accomplishment I’ve had yet in my month-long time at ELLE—though the hallway hello I had from our iconic style director tops the list, as well. Now these shoes that received a compliment—or maybe it was just elevator small talk, but I’ll be optimistic for optimism’s sake—were not a pair of my most ferocious flats, stylish stilettos or bank-breaking booties. They were a pair of Toms. Toms!

I wore my cushy and—gasp!—flat (oh, the horror!) Toms last Friday, after weeks of clacking around the 42^nd floor of the Time & Life Building turned my ankles and arches into aching excuses for some R&R. Honestly, Toms are more like slippers than anything else, hence my hesitation to rock them in public (let alone at ELLE!), but I think the gold sparkles made them worthy enough for the fashion den. Or at least worthy enough in the eyes of this recessionista!

Naturally, in a perfect world, I’d die for my love of leopard to collide with the comfort I find in Toms, but as perfect as these are, I just can’t justify a $100 pair of slippers when my heart’s already been stolen by these…and these…okay, and these, too…

But, alas, I have embraced self-control in the shopping sphere (aren't you proud, Mamadukes?) due to the major news I'll share with y'all tomorrow. Hint: it involves a brownstone...