My father is on vacation. Thank God. Just wanted to clarify. And when he gets back, he’s not allowed to read this post. Or most of the comments from the previous post. Mkay? Thanks.
That said, let’s talk about the power of a great pair of shoes, my pets.
Comments in the last post notwithstanding, it’s not all about sex. (Sorry, guys.) I mean, sure, sometimes it is.
The term F.M.B. came about for a good reason. Pair those puppies with the right short skirt, and the right toss of the hair and half a smile mixed with a partially-cocked (ha, cocked!) eyebrow… and the invitation isn’t only implicit, it’s practically palpable. That kind of power is not to be trifled with, and—I would postulate—not to be missed. Everyone should experience that pure adrenaline rush of animal lure now and then. Even if it doesn’t lead to anything, er, untoward. Everyone should know what it feels like to leave someone gasping in their wake. Just because.
So yes, I’m not immune to the potential of my super-fantastic boots… and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t part of why I love them. Just knowing what they could potentiate… well, yeah. Love that.
But, as my faithful readers know, I am a wanton slut for “What Not To Wear” and, well, not so much wanton or slutty (alas) in many other ways. And what my idols Stacy and Clinton have taught me is the Power Of A Fabulous Boot does not begin and end with the possibility of turning men into ectoplasmic goo.
I put those boots on for my interview—under some very conservative dress slacks, you understand—and it wasn’t about being sexual. (Cuz, um, ewwwwwww.) Yes, Virginia, your knee-high heeled boots can be PROFESSIONAL. It was about looking sharp. It was about feeling confident. It was about both looking and being confident, and capable.
And maybe just a teensy tiny bit about removing the last ten or so years of gravity from my ass. Okay? There. Sheesh.
Anyway. You wanna call them F.M.B.s? They might be. Sometimes. But not all the time. I prefer to think of them as B.O.P.s (Boots Of Power!). I’m going to wear them to my second interview, as well. If I get the job, I am totally going to perpetuate the B.O.P. handle throughout the internet.
That said, I am very much looking forward to their first outing as agents of ectoplasm creation. Muhahahaha.
But, as my faithful readers know, I am a wanton slut for “What Not To Wear” and, well, not so much wanton or slutty (alas) in many other ways.
Chuh, riiiight … nice try.
See, I am all about the B.O.P. (or as I call them, ‘kick-ass boots’) as instruments of power and confidence and ‘hey, world – bring it on-ness.’
And if they just so happen to always be present when other opportunities, uh, present themselves?
Sheer coincidence.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it…
Over at “Faster than Kudzu,” Joshilyn once referred to this type of footwear as “knee high skin tight high heeled black leather pointy toed viciously sharp cat woman sassy hot monkey love BOOOOOOOTS.” I believe this should be the technical term, as it covers both the FMB and the BOP aspects! :)
Back in college, I had “bitch boots”. I actually wrote about them WAAAY back in blogdom. They were just Doc Martens with heels, but they gave me total confidence, and I always wore them on stage.
Wow, those boots are both FMBs and BOPs. Seriously they are very versatile and cute and I think I need them now and where did you buy them?
“and the right toss of the hair and half a smile mixed with a partially-cocked (ha, cocked!) eyebrow… and the invitation isn’t only implicit, it’s practically palpable”
Ohhhhhhhhhh…so that’s why you call that one picture of mine that…and I’m sure I don’t even have any boots on in that one :D
While I appreciate the distinction between FMB and BOP, doesn’t it really just boil down to a BOP being an FMB that also says “Right NOW,and make me some coffee, too!” Good luck with all incarnations of those gorgeous things…and yes, where’d you get ’em??
I can’t believe that noone mentioned Nancy Sinatra – These boots are made for walking…..
(mostly) BOP & (just a little)FMB all in one song.