No such thing as a power wedge

Power heel? Yes.

Power evening sandal? Definitely.

Power running shoe? For sure - I own two pairs.

But a power wedge?

In the abstract, the thought of someone trying to pass off what is in my opinion a lazy heel as a shoe that commands authority seems at best antithetical, at worst ignorant.

Last night, after seeing a woman outside Rosa Mexicana in Penn Quarter attempt just this in a flawlessly-fitted gray pinstripe skirt suit and ivory silk button-up with a wide patent leather headband, black seamless leather briefcase and a pair of the fattest black round-toed wedges similar to these from Seychelles ($83.95 at zappos.com), I now know for a fact pairing a professionally powerful ensemble with gigantic training heels not only erodes a woman's femininity but her power projection as well. From the ankles up, this woman was the picture of a boardroom taskmaster who had just made the deal - and all the men involved in it - her bitch. From the ankles down, however, I thought I was coming face-to-face with the world's first orthopedic stripper shoe.

Call me ultra-traditional, but I will always opt for the shoe that makes my foot look its most delicate. Round-toe over pointy, peeptoe over closed, skinny heel over stacked, pump over boot, and barely-there evening sandal over strappy. In my opinion, the wedge has the ultimate anti-delicate silhouette. They're clunky, they're heavy, and wearing them make you look as if you've just walked off the set of Velvet Goldmine.

If you're a true believer in the wedge or you have too many pairs to let yourself quit the trend, at least do me the favor of keeping them to summer vacations and casual weekends only.

And never, absolutely never indulge in the Britney-favored wedge flip-flop/slide. There's just no excuse and no venue appropriate - especially in the District - for that multicolored foam mess.