You’d think a 39-year-old woman could avoid the mud, but at least once a week (in the winter), I get my shoes so muddy during the workday that I panic over cleaning them before I enter the next salon. (Tracking mud through an upscale beauty center does not endear one to the staff.) Cue Kasmira scraping her heels against curbs, wiping the soles of her shoes on the grass, shuffling through puddles, and stomping on the sidewalk. I will never be chic.
Sweater, thrifted. Dress, Talbots (consignment). Tights, We Love Colors. Boots, Ariat. Jacket, REI. Scarf, consignment.
It was a long day and I still had mud on my shoes at the end of it.