Impractical shoes have much less of a place in my life now than they did in my party-going, shots-drinking, wobble-home-at-2-a.m. youth. In fact, I almost never wear them anymore, except for when I’m having sex.
My spouse Matt and I share an interest in financial domination and “sugar dating” as kinks. I view those two interests as being two sides of one coin; the balance of power in our dynamic on any given day decides whether them buying me fancy things feels more like I’m a little girl being spoiled rotten by her daddy or an imperious queen being mollified with gifts by her loyal subject. As a result of these pervy interests, my collections of mid- to high-end bags, shoes, and lingerie have grown over the past couple years or so, to my femme delight.