Category Archives: Shoes

Life as a Rockstar

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I know plenty of musicians. There is only one or two that I would ever refer to as rockstars, but that is beside the point.

I think a huge part of being a rockstar is about your attitude, how you carry yourself, and how you present yourself.

I never considered myself a rockstar… until recently. I was much better at being a groupie. I made the best groupie. I was that girl you loved to have at your show because it was so obvious how much I loved the music. Musicians love their music and so they love it when someone else loves their music.

Some musicians hide their true-selves under a facade of deep thoughts. These are not rockstars. These are tortured artists.

One can be an artist and a rockstar, but you don’t have to be a rockstar to be an artist. (In fact, there are plenty of rockstars that are NOT artists, but I won’t name any names here.)

Rockstars have a quiet confidence about them. They KNOW they are awesome and, more often than not, can be seen enjoying the music they are making just as much as the audience. They also know how to connect and engage with their audience in ways that the tortured artists are sometimes too afraid (or too distracted by their own music) to do.

My friend, Michael Pancier, is a different kind of artist; he’s a photographer (Yes, of course, he’s a musician, too.) and was kind enough to take me on a photoshoot while I was in Miami.

He made me feel like a rockstar shooting  an album cover.

Here are some of my favorite shots from our shoot. (The ones that I think best capture me… or just make me look like the bad ass timbalera that I am now. 😉 )

(Seriously, doesn’t this one look like an album cover?)

And here are my two absolute favorites:

Packing for a Trip

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I had a few days before I was supposed to leave and every one kept asking if I was ready to go.

No.

I am not one of those people that packs a week in advance.
I am a night before kind of girl.

Granted, TWO nights before my trip I pulled out my suitcase and made sure to pack my bathing suit.

Then it was upon me: the night before my trip.
It was time to pack.

And it was time for deep thinking, apparently.

While I looked at my suitcase that had only my my bathing suit inside, and started thinking about what I wanted to wear while I was in Miami, I realized that I could be whoever I wanted to be while I was there. I could pack the best parts of myself and left behind the worn-out parts. The “ugly” parts.

My empty suitcase continued to amuse me while I wanted for my laundry to finish drying.

So I packed my suitcase full of shoes.

Was this the essence of who I had become?
Fabulous shoes and a love for Miami water?
Night and Day.
Did I really need anything else?

My musings were interrupted by a text message that read: Have a great time! Go be crazy! You deserve it!

Deserve it?
I had earned the right to be irresponsible and wild?
I looked at the impossibly short skirts I had buried in a drawer from a time when I was younger and wilder and irresponsible.
I could take them with. I could be whoever I wanted.

That was the problem, all I wanted to be was the best version of myself.
It seems that the best version of myself included 5.5″ red heels and lots of gold bracelets, but the version also included sneakers and a good book.

I learned that the best version of myself was sassy and sophisticated and practical… to a point.

I packed my hopes and expectations into my suitcase, slept for an hour or two, and then proceeded to get dressed and get ready for whatever the next 6 days would bring.

 

A Christmas Miracle

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When I found the black dress for my Christmas party I was super excited.

It was a bit of a departure for me as far as dresses go. Tight and short black dresses typically just exacerbate the genetic betrayal that is my legacy; however, this particular dress looked pretty great. The top was black, but sparkly and I felt like the best way to make it a Christmas dress would be red accessories. I had this mental picture of red glittery shoes and red and gold bangles to match and really pull it all together. Because you can’t wear bright red shoes with a black dress and gold jewelry. Red has to be in the jewelry, too, in order to pull the eyes back up from the shoes.

I had a very clear picture in my head.

I looked for red glitter shoes and kept coming up empty.

So I settled for the gold glitter shoes and thought “Well, I can still do the red and gold bangles and earrings and it’ll keep it Christmas. Then I’ll just take out the red for New Year’s.”

I was fine with that plan. And then the red shoes found me. So I got them.

And that is how the Great Hunt for Red and Gold Bangles started.
Endless hours of walking from store to store only to be disappointed.

I finally found bracelets that were not quite what I had in mind, but they would work.

As I was leaving the mall, a necklace at a store that specializes in silver caught my eye. Now that my red and gold bangle mission was over, I allowed myself to go into the silver store. (Because, why would I go into a silver store when hunting for gold?)

I noticed that the store had branched out. There were many more colourful necklaces in there than I remembered and I was slowly pulled deeper and deeper into the store. (It’s actually not a very deep store, but it was a slow pull.)

And, there, along the back wall, were bangles. Every color of bangle. Red. Gold. Green. Blue. Purple. RED. GOLD.

I cried. (Ok, I didn’t CRY; my eyes filled with tears, but I held them back.)

I know that not having the exact accessories you want is a total “1st World, White Girl” problem, but that is not really the point.

I had a dream. A picture in my head.

I had been content with the gold shoes, but then I got the red ones I’d dreamed about. And I had been content with the red and gold bracelets I had JUST bought thinking that I was never going to find the bracelets I had dreamed about. I was still excited.

But then my dream came true.

It was such a little thing.

A small and simple wish, but it happened. And right about the time I was giving up. Right about the time I was settling for less.

Honestly? It felt like a personal Christmas gift sent directly from God. *blush*

THAT is why I cried.

Because if he is willing to give me my silly wish of red shoes and red and gold bangles, then there’s a good chance he’d be happy to give me some of my “real” wishes, too.

Glitter after 30

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Mami: I don’t understand why we have to walk this far…

Me: I went the wrong way, but LOOK AT THOES SHOES!! I am SO coming back this weekend.

Mami: Which shoes? Not the glitter ones?

Me: YES! They’re so shiiiiiny!

Mami: Are you kidding? Who wears glitter shoes?

Me: I will. After this weekend.

Mami: San Apapusio, Baja!

Me: Mami, I have to take advantage of my age! I only have a couple good years of glitter wearing left! After 30? It’s over. It just becomes pathetic.*

Mami: Good point. But why do you have to be a glitter person at all?

Me: Do you know who I am?

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*I don’t actually think it’s after 30 that glitter becomes pathetic or inappropriate. I think it is a case by case basis, but if you’re over 40 and still wearing glitter, you’re probably single for a reason.