I effing love Louboutins…even if most of them are “couch to curb” shoes (thanks kcal for that gem of a term). I don’t really care if you think that’s excessive or materialistic. I adore them and I’m not ashamed so you can save your judgement for someone else.

I seriously have a visceral reaction when I spot those red bottoms. They do something to my endorphins. I have a pair of black peep toes that I cherish and keep in their box and only pull out for select occasions. They are my most uncomfortable, yet my favorite shoes I own.

So naturally, with my nuptials looming in the near future, I decided I was getting a sophmore pair. My mom treated me to my wedding gown, so I took the money I planned to use for that and put it in a mental Louboutin fund.

Yesterday I went with my posse (my mom and daughter) to scout the selection. I thwarted my mom’s suggestions to schlep to Aventorture by factually stating my case that there were more stores in my mall that carried them, leaving her no wiggle room to counter. And in typical mom fashion, she has a comment about every person walking in the mall that directly pertains to things that are “so boca”. It could be botched plastic surgery, women pushing strollers through the mall in crazy high stilletos (remember, people, she fired a nanny for that offense). Pick your poison. Doesn’t even matter that the same shit fills the streets of Aventura.

From Saks, to Neimans, and back to Saks we perused, ogled, and man-handled the bevy of red bottoms on display. My mom said, “You know what? I think I’m gonna get a pair too!” But, my mother wears two types of shoes – flip flops and ballet flats. I can’t tell you the last time she wore a pair of heels, but she was hell bent on trying them on to see what the fuss was about.

She tried on one pair of pointy-toed, black patent medium heels. She dramatically cringed in pain trying to even get them on her foot and when she stood up she sat right back down.

Nope, not gonna happen. Clearly we don’t share the passion. I would sever a toe for the right pair.

I tried to explain the physics of the pointy toe and how it squeezes your foot so much more. Maybe she should try a peep toe, or a round toe, I suggested. “A round toe, Rachel? They’re so ugly, they look like Jessica Simpson shoes”. (I have a couple pairs of those too for the record).

God forbid.

I tried on a few pairs, walked around, looked in the same mirror 50 times, and then I found the winners, but we got distracted because I also made a friend. A very nice girl about my age was sitting next to us and commented on the shoes, which started a conversation, that led to exchanging phone numbers, and more conversation, while the poor saleswoman waited in the wings to box em up and ship me off.

So, with the shoes done, that leads me to the rest of the attire.

When SLS and I decided to get married (again), we knew it was going to be a family-only event (there are still 40 of us because our families clearly like to breed). So that begs the question, what do you wear? Do you go all bridal? And then I remembered, wait there are no “rules”, we can do whatever the eff we want! A beautiful family dinner vs. a ballroom filled with 6-foot floral centerpieces doesn’t make it any less of a wedding, right?

I said yes to the dress, but no the veil and definitely no to the garter. I mean, it feels weird to imagine SLS emerging from under my dress with a garter in his teeth in such small quarters. Plus, once that dress is on, there’s no way to pull it up for those types of shenanigans. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Before I said yes to my dress however, my mother had some suggestions. And let me preface this by saying, I do think my mom has GREAT style, She’s not a fuddy duddy prude who wears mom jeans. She’s either dripping in Louis, or sporting the “Baller” bag I got her.


But every now and then, she has momentary lapses of insanity (with fashion and other things) and I have to reel her back in.

Need examples? Awesome, How about the idea of my child and I wearing matching dresses for the wedding?

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The first one is “very me”? Mom, do you know me at all? Case in point.

If you need some other snippets of the times I think my mom lost her marbles with my wardrobe, here are a few more gems.

There’s the time she dressed me as a slutty genie for Halloween.


Not to be confused with the time she dressed me as a slutty french maid for Halloween.


And years later, followed by the outfit she carefully curated for my brother’s Bar Mitzvah, which was topped off with white thigh highs…or her piece de resistance. And I was actually 18 in this pic. Not a minor, so I suppose I could have nixed it. Chalk it up to years of fashion manipulation.

thigh highs

I think we’re in good shape for this shindig and when my mom finds out I have a cut and color the week before, she will start the passive aggressive, “I hate when brides to drastic things to their hair the week before their weddings, don’t you Rachel?” or “Your dress is going to look gorgeous with long flowing hair, I hope you don’t cut more than an inch. You only need a trim anyway.”

And she got her dress 5 mins after SLS proposed (who are we kidding, it was probably on hold already), so she’s good to go.

As far as her foray into Louboutins, I don’t think it’s going to happen, but she’s pretty stubborn (family trait), so we’ll see.