our shoes were our show boats

Do you ever notice that when a song gets stuck in your head, it typically replays the same part over and over again? Even when you sit and think the song through, the moment you stop sitting and thinking it through, the tune tends to skip right back to a particular spot, like a record player's finicky needle.

For instance, whenever I get Bon Jovi's "It's My Life" stuck in my head (and it seems to somehow creep in there at least once a month, despite my never hearing that song anywhere else but in my own head), it's always on the "WOW-WOW" guitar part in the beginning of the song.

Whenever it's Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir," I always loop the part of the song where Robert Plant croons "ooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooyeah... baby, I've been flying/dying/crying/(I can't ever make out what he actually says here)."

And so on and so forth.

Today, I have one teeny blurb from The Decemberists' "On the Bus Mall" endlessly looping in my noggin. Which accounts for this post title, as this actual post has little to nothing to do with shoes. Or boats. Or shoes shaped like boats.

I know, I'm disappointed too.

cami, cotton on

silk feather top, fossil

jacket, diane von furstenberg

jeans, gap

flats, steve madden

monocle necklace, gift

fish necklace, gift

bangle, kate spade

skull ring, ebay

I love silk tops. I found this shirt on sale at Fossil for $19.99 and knew it had to come home with me. I mean, silk and with feather print? I am sold!