It has come to my attention that I am the only person I know who is white-knuckling it through life without the aid of any sort of drugs, legal or otherwise. I went to see The Melvins and Redd Kross live on New Year's eve, and I totally said, "No, thanks!" to the girl who tried to pass me her personal marijuana cigarette.
This wouldn't be that big of a deal if I hadn't recently realized that I actually suffer from some pretty intense anxiety. I’m deadly afraid that my entire success in my chosen career thus far is due to said anxiety. I live in total, constant, sweaty fear of screwing up and getting fired. It's my biggest motivator.
I'd do something about it, but l absolutely DESPISE going to the doctor and cannot ever be bothered to see one unless it's my beloved dermatologist. (Hi, Dr. Kim!) I just go see Dr. Kim for everything -- coughs, colds, EVEN STITCHES. He thinks I am a maniac, but, I mean, derms are regular doctors, too, right? I'm not so sure he'd write me a script for anti-anxiety meds, though.
In the spirit of even further realization (New Year, New You!), I have also figured out why I am so damn tired all the time, even when I've slept for 10 solid hours. It’s because my brain actually never rests -- it’s somehow set on an endless tape loop of mindless chatter that I have no control over.
It keeps up a constant running commentary at all times along the lines of this: "What's that R. Kelly song where he sings about the after party in the hotel lobby? Should I start trying to wear men's oxford-style shirts? What happens when people die of pneumonia? Is that actress lying about her sizes and the fitting tomorrow is going to be a total bust? Should I buy all new furniture for my office? Am I over-conditioning my hair?”
It just never shuts up. Clearly I'm not really in charge of my brain -- it’s calling all the shots. I’m only along for the ride.
You may be wondering why any of this should interest you, and what my adversarial relationship with my own personal brain has to do with anything. Well, duh, of course said brain woke me up at 2am recently to ask the burning question, "What do you think I can do to make my boring, plain, everyday work boots more interesting?"
Yes, Virginia, there really is such a thing as boot jewelry.
I wear boots to work almost every day for protection. There are a ton of hazards on a film set! (I may have told you before about breaking half my toes when someone ran a full rack of clothes over my foot.) Since I can't afford to purchase or store 365 pairs of boots, I own a lot of boot jewelry in an attempt to make the 2 dozen pairs I do own seem instantly more bad-ass, day in and day out.
The first pair of boot chains I bought was this pair by 2 Bandits, which are now SOLD OUT! (Please e-mail 2 Bandits en masse and ask them to re-stock, as I accidentally left mine in a Phoenix hotel room.)
I love embellishment of all kinds. I am a cross between a magpie and a barracuda, hopelessly attracted to shiny baubles. Boot chains are the logical next step in my quest to bedazzle my entire life.
A pair of fantastic boot chains is way cheaper than a new pair of boots, and almost all of the pairs shown here could be adapted to any shoe come summertime. I love the idea of some of these honkin' chains paired with a pair of simple sandals. Shiny chains on bare skin is eternally sexy in my book.
You can also find all manner of boot decoration at actual western stores that sell boots. (Such as Shepler's.) I like to sometimes wear my boots to work with actual spurs on them. It really makes people wonder what in the hell you might do if they dare disagree with you. Try it, you'll like it!
I just stupidly realized that I could have been re-purposing a bunch of junk necklaces in my jewelry drawer and making my own boot chains/shoe jewelry this whole time. I MEAN, DUHHHHHHHHHHH.
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