Tragically, it was the plimpsolls.

I want to say that Thriftland’s bizarre celebration of weird footwear got better. And in a sense it did, depending on how you define “better.” Or “footwear.” Maybe Pocahontas wanted to go out on the town, and possibly pursue a career as a strumpet. She’d need this shoe, and she’d say, “oh, that’s a better shoe. I’ll take it.”

No other context, though.

Unless “stiletto heel open toe scarecrow” is a thing. Or Raggedy Ann suddenly got the urge to go out on the town.

The next shoe ended up being just a little too biological for nightware. It started out pursuing the cheerful informality of a sneaker and the shapely curve of a wedge, then covered it all in velcro and that pink.

After that, it was less “cute little pair of pumps” and more “my feet, they have been savaged by octopus. Please help me, there’s anime wrapping itself around my ankles.”

Without feet, it looks kind of sick, like some sort of weird bulldog that’s desperate for air. With feet, it would probably look like it was throwing up toes.

Again, Thrift Land on Stassney in South Austin

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