I'm pretty sure the boss doesn't want to see your jacked-up heels

I know not every professional woman in this city shares my view on the notion that a serious job is no excuse for turning a blind eye - or in many cases, a pair of blind eyes - to how one looks as they bridge the divide between home and office.

I realize for some of you, whether it's out of necessity or preference or whatever, clothes are just...well, clothes. Nothing more. And certainly nothing over which you find yourself fretting, fawning or foregoing meals on a daily basis.

But in the spirit of a post I wrote a few months back in which I questioned one young woman's decision to introduce the belly shirt to a Sunday morning church service, I would like to here and now raise the issue of another peculiar - and in my opinion, equally offensive - lapse in think-of-how-it-affects-others judgment.

And that would be the jacked-up, cracked-up, haven't-seen-a-bottle-of-Jergens-since-the-Clinton-administration heels stuffed into a pair of besequinsed too-small, peep-toed, kitten-heeled slides.


There are few female body parts that when taken care of properly have the ability to distract (at least temporarily) from a busted mug, a bulging belly, jumbly thighs or a shiteous haircut. Gorgeous, fresh skin does the job, a taut pop of ass definitely goes a long way, and the last feature on this shortlist, the feature that can really boost a 5 to a 6.5 and the reason why so many of us spend more time and money at the salon than we should or can afford is a pretty, well cared-for pair of feet.

But as I saw yesterday evening at the intersection of 17th and L, the power that on one hand can upgrade a woman's hotness factor has the power to down-down-downgrade it as well.

You wouldn't expose your colleagues to a rash on your inner thigh, you wouldn't share with the world an infected, ingrown nail, you wouldn't find it appropriate to wear a top that highlighted a giant whitehead on your back, so why, why are so many women - not just the aforementioned one, but throngs and throngs of callous and fissure-flaunting females in my pocket of the city - under the misconception that their so-dry-they-look-diseased feet have the right to see the light of day in an office setting?

To all the women who favor the slide, I implore you, either lotion 'em up, or keep 'em well encased in a non-slingbacked pump, boot, sneaker, hell even one of those stupid-looking pootie things.

Because from now on, I'd like to keep down my $5.49 Infinite Orange smoothie, thank you.