For the longest time, I had a hideous pair of rain boots. But I didn’t care because…well, I don’t care about much other than staying dry when it’s raining. But Sean made such a big deal about the UGLY BOOTS. Every time it rained, he would avoid being seen in public with me because I’d be wearing “those things.” They weren’t even categorized as boots–he would call them things. Like, they weren’t even worthy of being dubbed as boots by the man who wears hideous flannel EVERY SINGLE DAY. God forbid I have one item that doesn’t meet his lumberjack fashion standards. It’s almost like someone wearing Crocs critisizing the Prada shoes you’re wearing. It’s like…”Um, seriously?!?” (and now I’ve angered the Croc wearers)

So, finally after a few years, I sprung for new boots. Sleek, black rain boots. And I have to say…I don’t feel frumpy and gross now when it’s raining. For about a week I sat, staring out the window hoping for rain so I could wear these boots. And then I got my wish. And I got it again. And then it rained every single day last week, including Saturday when I had to shoot a wedding. And all I can say, is THANK GOD I had some rain boots that I could wear for work with dress pants. In this ONE CASE, maybe…just maybe…Sean was right.

The new boots:

The old boots:

They’re twins. I think I’ll call them Francesca and Paola. Because they are so obviously Italian.

Here’s hoping that they won’t end up giving me blisters!