Before I realized my red shoes' true place in my life, I tried to wear them on the streets of Manhattan. Sauntering right out of the store on these strange (and very tall) wooden-soled shoes, I felt like the queen of a small Hawaiian island. A rush of confidence coursed through my body and I let my shopping bags swing wildly in my hands.

I passed a group of VERY cute boys leaning against a building, and they all smiled at me. I smiled back, blushing but charged with the exterior validation that I had made a VERY wise shoe purchase indeed.

I couldn't resist looking over my shoulder to get one more smile. But just as our eyes met again, my right shoe hit a patch of uneven pavement. My ankle buckled, and I lost my balance completely. My bags flew out in front of me, and I hit the pavement like a little girl learning to roller skate.

Suffice it to say, I learned to wear my red shoes indoors only, and mainly to parties. Queens of Hawaii don't need to walk on the streets anyway.

--rachael