Knocked up and knockin' it out of the park

On my way to work this morning, I slowed my quick, Wellingtons-enabled pace to walk behind - and observe construction-worker-style - a stunning woman with a still-wet but near professionally executed chignon at the nape of her neck in a black and white houndstooth showpiece coat, black stovepipe trousers, red leather gloves and a pair of flat black round-toed equestrian boots.

Given the six inches of ice hugging the curbs at every intersection and my own choice of footwear that morning, it was unfair of me to think this way, but I admit, I was quite disappointed to see this woman's fantastic ensemble end on such a, well, flat note.

Just as Johnny Mnemonic would have, I put on my game face, a techno-inspired soundtrack ("Clark Gable" by the Postal Service) and began to run through at a startlingly efficient clip the shoe inventory that has been compiling in my head since I fell in love with my first pair - those caramel-colored slip-on Bass confections we all wore in the late '80s - back in third grade.

In Zappos fashion, I narrowed my mental search by style (pump), toe (round), color (black), and heel height (high), then just as quickly sifted through the results until I had just the right selection.

"These? No, too low, too girly."

"These? Maybe...but the platform isn't really work-appropriate."

"These? Love 'em, but can't do the open-toe in 20 degrees."

"These. These are it. Perfect."

Just as Ben Gibbard cooed my favorite line of the song ("I kissed you in a style Clark Gable would've admired...I thought it classic...classic...classic..."), just as I was about to tell this woman how I could improve her look (in my head, not out loud), she turned right on the corner of 17th and M, revealing not only a pair of round-toed black pumps nestled in a Bloomingdale's "Medium Brown Bag" but a third-trimester belly as well.

Knocked up hadn't looked so smart since Heidi Klum at the 2006 Emmys.