Tonight I read my children a bedtime story entitled "Puss in Boots". For those of you not familiar I'll give you the run down. Puss in Boots is a very old European folk tale. The best known version is recounted by Charles Perrault in his 1697 collection of Mother Goose.
Once upon a time there was a poor miller who kicked the bucket. He screwed his youngest son out of any fortune except the family cat. The son was pissed about this turn of events and thought he may as well eat the cat since he had no money for food. Suddenly, the cat began to speak!!! He told the son if he would have a pair of boots especially made for the cat they would never have financial woes again.
In designer boots this cat becomes a very sly and crafty sorta cat. He's the cat's meow, if you will. He tricks a King and Princess and against all odds convinces an evil Ogre to turn into a mouse. He eats the mouse. Keeps the Ogre's castle and lands. Lives a luxious life with the Miller's son for the rest of his days.
I have always loved this story. I like magical happy endings. I like the prospect of animals conversing with humans. I like the idea of a bully being tricked and then gobbled alive. All these things I enjoy. But I LOVE the idea of a cat in boots. This cat was a Slick Rick and could have asked for anything. He could have begged a hat or a coat or comfy pair of trainers. He only desired BOOTS!
I have a confession to make. My name is Crystal Pistol and I am a boot whore. Collecting boots is an addiction I've struggled with for years now. When I see a beautiful pair in the department store my heart races a bit and I become short of breath. I hold them and carress them. I smell them. I examine them from top to bottom. I smile at them a little as if to say, "Don't worry. You can come home with me."
Sometimes I'm strong, and although I've carressed and fondled said boot, I step away. Even though I've whispered sweet nothings and imagined us together forever, I exihibit self-control. I have a family to feed! I can't... Yeah... but kids in America are getting more and more obese daily. I should really feed my kids LESS. If I spend grocery money on boots instead of food I'll be doing everyone a favor! I'm very good at making beans and rice. Beans and rice are cheap! That's all people EVER eat in Mexico and they're GRATEFUL for it!!! My kids need to be more grateful.
"I'll take these," I say to the handsome, gay shoe salesman. I smile triumphantly.
"Giiirrl! Those boots look so HOOOOOT on you! MMM mmm! Not everybody can pull them off," he says. We're good pals. He always compliments my fashion sense and then we talk about all the fashion emergencies walking about the store. We scoff. Then we laugh. Then I pay. These particular boots were 30% OFF! Can you BELIEVE IT?!! (I realize it means 70% ON, but whatev.)
Yesterday I was feeling a bit down so I decided to visit La Encantada. It's my Tiffany's. "Nothing really bad could ever happen there." I thought I heard someone calling my name. So I followed the sound. I listened very carefully and soon I was face to face with the most spectacular boots I had ever laid eyes upon. They whispered to me. I put them on. OH OH OH! I HAD TO HAVE THEM!! All my troubles slipped away and it was just me and them. Thigh-high black leather with 3 1/2 inch skinny heels.
When I wear a great pair of boots I feel like Puss in Boots from our story. Without the boots I'm just a regular garden variety cat who coughs up hairballs and lazes in the sun. With boots ON I am Cat Woman. Every super power at my disposal. I can leap buildings in a single bound! I'm faster than a speeding bullet! I'm elasta-girl! I'm Wonder Woman! My intelligence is heightened by 1000% ! My powers of persuasion are unmatched!(I wouldn't want to become invisible 'cause then no one would see my fab new foot gear.) But I am SHE-RA!!!!! By THE POWER OF GRAYSKULL!! I HAVE THE POOOWWWWEERRRRR!!!!!!
Whew. It can be a bit overwhelming, which is why I wear flip flops a great deal as well...
It is my belief that Puss the cat had no special powers until he saw the opportunity of a life time. He could not speak until he uttered the words, "Do not worry my good master. You have only to have a pair of boots made for me, and you shall see that your portion is not so bad as you imagine it to be." Without those fabulous, handmade boots, Puss would have been a mediocre lap pet.
I hope I am making myself clear to you people. I want you to understand that I don't just like boots. Purchasing them is a serious task that cannot be taken lightly. Without them I am Samson with a hair cut. Without them I am Puss with no boots. Without them I am just like everyone else.
