As much as I love Nordstrom, as much as every time I go in there I get a major urge to pull a Where the Heart Is and find a way to secretly live there until I give birth (no, I'm not really pregnant, but work with me here) in the shoe section and achieve national fame for my "Nordstrom baby" and finally find happiness in life with my new friends Ashley Judd and Stockard Channing, as much as it is the best store in the world, sometimes it really lets me down.
Specifically, sometimes the Nordstrom website really lets me down. Now, I'm not sure if nordstrom.com is regular Nordstrom's nerdy cousin or if I should count them both as one entity, but either way, if I was sort of able to forgive for this egregious lapse in judgment, what am I supposed to do about these?
Seriously, have you ever seen a worse case of cankles in your life? I would never ridicule an authentic pair of beefy ankles, but these are cankles-by-choice, cankles voluntarily induced as soon as those stirrup pants were pulled on and jammed into those innocent peep toe pumps. And that, my friends, is an act not easily forgiven. Especially when the pants involved cost $139. Good god, I know.
Nordstrom, you keep this up and I'm having my famous imaginary Nordstrom baby elsewhere. You hear me?
*This post is dedicated to Eli, who so eloquently commented the title phrase in response to the Medusa fur atrocity a few posts down. And to answer your question: these things cannot be explained. It's truly a gift.