Thoughts On Life

Shoe Talk: Tieks by Gavrieli

April 11, 2013 by Leah Leave a Comment

When Women You Should Know posted an article about Tieks by Gavrieli last month, my interest was piqued. I adore shoes, but I also love the fact that the Gavrieli Foundation helps female entrepreneurs in developing countries with donations from every sale of their shoes. When I went on the Tieks site, I was immediately enamored by the bright, sexy colors of the shoes, pictures of Oprah sporting them in her office, a lovely little portrait gallery, and of course, the pretty blue soles. I had to have a pair. So I added them to the list of “awesome things to buy someday when I have millions of extra dollars lying around.” Also included on this list are Louboutins, a house on the coast, a villa in Italy, a Chloe’ bag, and Tiffany diamonds (there are many more items on this list including things like world peace, a cure for cancer and AIDS, and peace in the Middle East, but I’m just sticking to the things money can buy for now). A girl can dream!

I literally visited the Tieks site a couple of times a week to look at the fun colors…I couldn’t stop. And then magically, they appeared in my mailbox one day, no idea how that happened. So let me tell you about these divine little flats that have stolen my shoe-loving heart.

They arrive in a blue box with a bling’d out flower on top. It’s like a Tiffany box, but darker blue and in shoe form. Inside the box, the shoes are wrapped in tissue, along with the following:

Handwritten note imploring me to love my new Romantic Blush Tieks (which I do).
Card telling me to post pics of my new Tieks on Instagram (which I did, but I forgot the hashtag, oops).
Card telling me how to care for my new Tieks.
Little drawstring bag to hold my new folded Tieks when I have a swanky night out on the town and my Louboutins start to make my feet ache.
Pretty blue compact bag for my Louboutins when I slide into my Tieks at said swanky night out on the town.
No pant clips. I’ve been told that pant clips are included in case you had your swanky dress pants hemmed to the length of your Louboutins, but they were mysteriously absent from my box, so maybe that was something they used to do last year or something?
I also cannot tell where the Tieks are made. They say they are crafted from Italian leather, and trust me, the leather is simply beautiful in every way, but I cannot find where they are actually assembled and manufactured, which I would like to know.

I have to say, these are high quality shoes that are worthy of the designer label. I own flats by Elie Tahari, Vince Camuto, Lacoste, Betsey Johnson, and some little cheap-o brands, but not one of those pairs has a sole like the Tieks. These actually feel like a real shoe. There isn’t a ton of arch support because they fold, but the heel and ball of the feet are very cushioned by the blue soles. The leather interior has that awesome new car smell and the stitching is lovely.

The shoes are quite comfortable and I’ve read other reviews online that say you don’t have to break them in, but I think you do…a little bit. I am a 7.5 and ordered an 8 because I have chunky feet. There is one part of my right foot that is being a bit squeezed by the elastic, but they are still comfy enough to wear all day with no problem. I have this issue with other shoes too, so it may just be my weird feet.

I would definitely recommend these to friends even though they are pricey, with a range of $165-$295. There are about 10 more colors, ok maybe like 14, on the Tieks site that I would love to add to my collection because they are so gorgeous and the names are really fun. Considering the fact that I just glued another pair of old flats together, I have a feeling that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship…

P.s. While I was out one day, a guy asked me if my shoes were real snakeskin. Because snakes are sparkly.

Please read my follow up to this Tieks experience here. I had to replace this pair. I recently just ordered a pair of the electric snake. When I pulled them out of the box, the snake “scales” were already starting to come up and they definitely did not look like the quality of a $300 pair of shoes. I returned those and got the ballerina pink. That pair definitely needed breaking in, and they are nowhere near as comfortable as the Starstruck replacement pair. Basically, I think the sizes all fit differently because these shoes are handmade. All three pairs that I tried on felt totally different, which is frustrating because it makes me hesitant to order again. As great as these shoes are, there are a lot of flaws still to be worked out in terms of quality on some of the more pricey patterns and actual fit of the shoe. The good thing is that if you did order and wanted to return the pair you got, the returns system seems to work well.

Deep Thoughts On Life And Death

March 29, 2013 by Leah Leave a Comment

I’m not a huge fan of Easter. Growing up, we didn’t really do the fun Easter basket thing or egg hunting, it was always a “spring celebration” or a “spring basket” because God forbid I should get the Easter bunny and the true meaning of Easter confused. I also always thought church was so utterly contrived at this time of year. I was never into the bearded guy in church playing Jesus, hanging on a cross with ketchup dripping off his torso. I hated the music that was always either utterly depressing or super cheesy. And yet, Easter is the crux of what I believe. I mean, without Easter, my faith would just be worthless really. So I acknowledge Easter in my heart by quietly reading the story at home, away from the masses of once-a-year churchgoers and those who are way more faithful than I am about attending. I sit and try to fathom the depth of what it means and how I should live my life as a result of it. I do this because it’s a holiday and that’s what you’re supposed to do on a holiday.

Let me tell you, Easter has hit me like a brick this year. My dear friend, Will, has cancer. In fact, Will received news this week that he only has a few weeks left with us on this earth. The cancer is taking over. With a good friend staring death in the face I am reminded of the fact that Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross conquered death for good. Do not be mistaken, Christ’s death did not erase the searing pain of loss, did not serve to make losing a loved one any easier, but it forever changed things on the other side of humanity. So
as I sit in the daze of confusion surrounding all that is happening to Will, I cling to the fact that somewhere, ages ago, death lost its power. In the middle of this achingly unfair situation that causes me to weep tears of loss, the knowledge of God’s power is what I have to comfort me. I have no idea what Heaven is like and I don’t pretend to. I have no idea if we will see our loved ones, how they will look, what we will do. Will we eat? Pray? Sing all day long? Who knows. But the one thing I do know is that God exists. I believe in him like I believe in the things I can see with my eyes and hold in my hands. I believe that Jesus came to earth and I believe that he rose again even though it’s a crazy story and there are days when my faith goes missing and I end up questioning everything, thinking, “But what if he didn’t? OMG, we’re all screwed!”

I am reading Anne Lamott’s latest book, and I just love her so much. It’s called Help. Thanks. Wow. The Three Essential Prayers and it’s about how those three words sum up prayer perfectly. Anne is real, let me tell you. She just lays it out there without all the saccharine, Christian-y language that makes me hate talking to church people sometimes. She has lost friends to cancer, she has watched them go through pain and suffering before taking their final breath, and she talks about how to pray for them. She says:

There are no words for the broken hearts of people losing people, so I ask God, with me in tow, to respond to them with graciousness and encouragement enough for the day. Everyone we love and for whom we pray with such passion will die, which is the one real fly in the ointment, so we pray for miracles – please help this friend live, please help that friend die gracefully – and we pray for the survivors to somehow come through.
In prayer I see the suffering bathed in light. In God there is no darkness. I see God’s light permeate them, soak into them, guide their feet. I want to tell God what to do: “Look, Pal, this is a catastrophe. You have got to shape up.” But it wouldn’t work. So I pray for people who are hurting, that they be filled with air and light. Air and light heal; they somehow get into those dark, musty places, like spiritual antibiotics.
We don’t have to figure out how this all works – “figure it out” is not a good slogan. It’s enough to know it does.

I got the latest update on Will’s condition yesterday morning and there was something in the email that took my breath away. A person had asked him if he was angry about the situation, and his response was, “No, I couldn’t be. I gave up the rights to my life when I said I was going to follow Christ.” Pause for a moment and let those words sink in. That is why I just love the guy. This is Will. Quiet, steady, faithful, insightful Will.

After reading the words of my friend, I realized that my perspective on my own life needs to change. Instead of thinking of all the things I want to do, instead of focusing on me me me, and pleading with God to let this happen or let that happen so I can be happy in life, that I need to seriously recalibrate and consciously perceive every single blessing as an incredible privilege. That whole “your life is not your
own” phrase has been thrown around for years in Christian circles, but the impact of those words never hit me with the reality they carry at this moment in time. “I gave up the rights to my life when I said I was going to follow Christ.” It needs to be posted on my bathroom mirror. It needs to be stuck to the dashboard of my car. It needs to be tattooed somewhere cool. It needs to be scrawled in letters across the sky. But even more than that, it needs to be written in permanent ink on my heart. It needs to change how I live my (borrowed) life.

So with Easter coming up and with all of this heavy sadness facing my friends and all of us who love them dearly, I contemplate once again what it means to follow Christ. We all stand with Will and his incredibly brave wife, Angie, and we send them love. We will hope for a miracle in the next days. And no matter what happens we will cling to our faith that says death holds no power over those whose hope is in God.

For more information on Will and his incredible story, please visit http://goteamgray.com/. There are many financial needs that Will and Angie have faced and will continue to face over the course of this journey. If you feel moved to donate, please do so here. You can also help in other ways. If you love music, Will has an EP on iTunes, and he also has a song on Blake Shelton’s new album that just came out on Tuesday. Will’s song is called “Do You Remember” and can be downloaded on iTunes and Amazon. And if that isn’t enough talent to blow your mind, Will also filmed a documentary that debuted in 2011 called Broke* about his journey as an artist. Lots of awesome people like Kelly Clarkson, John Legend, and The Fray were involved in this project. You can view the trailer at http://www.brokedoc.com/magazine/ and order the soundtrack here.

Nostalgic Pasta

January 12, 2013 by Leah 2 Comments

Tonight I made pasta, lemon ricotta gnocchi to be specific, and I am worn out!

I have been taking Italian for the past year and a half, getting in touch with my roots, and I love it so much. People ask me sometimes if I can speak fluently yet, and I sort of laugh and think they must be kidding. The grammar is so complex, my brain has been twisted like fusilli! Class starts again on January 24th and I’m already totally stressed out about it because I have slacked a bit on the studying over the holidays. So no, I cannot speak fluently, but I can now make my own limoncello, gnocchi, chicken piccata, and consume copious amounts of vino rosso while trying to force my brain to form a coherent sentence. Wine, bourbon, limoncello, and all forms of alcohol marvelously loosen the tongue when learning another language! We always have plenty on hand.

So back to the pasta! There’s a guy in my class named Bill who is a wizard in the kitchen. My envy of his mad skills knows no bounds. Every time I eat Bill’s food I end up begging him for the recipe and he has graciously obliged. So tonight, I made lemon ricotta gnocchi, and by “made,” I mean wrestled with dough until my arms were sore. You basically get some semolina flour, eggs, lemon zest, and ricotta. Mix that up and make the gluten magic happen till you have a nice ball of dough that also has Parmesan and flour kneaded in.

After it gets some beauty sleep in the fridge, you take it out and begin the process of rolling and cutting the dough to form the gnocchi. The special little touch that gives the pasta its famous ridges comes from a gnocchi board. Yes, these exist and I bought one. It’s basically a block of wood with ridges that has no other purpose than to make pasta look awesome and provide little channels for sauce to stick to. These Italians, they think of everything!

I got all nostalgic tonight while I was doing this. I remembered an episode of some cooking show I saw on PBS one night with these two little Italian women hunched together in a small kitchen making pasta. They took a handful of flour, threw it on a countertop, made a small indentation in the flour, added the most beautifully golden eggs I’ve ever seen, and just started working it all together with their bare hands. Somehow, they ended up with fettuccine. I think there’s some kind of magic that exists in the Italian hills that causes the most mundane of ingredients to become the most sumptuous meals.

Since I moved into my house and now have a kitchen with space in it, I’ve been so excited to cook and learn more Italian dishes. There’s something about making pasta that is very fundamental and makes me feel like I’m doing something generations of women have done before me. I feel the same about baking bread. You can buy a box of pasta for a dollar in the store, or a loaf of bread for a couple of bucks, but when you make these kitchen staples at home and realize the work and love that go into them, there is an appreciation that develops and a sense of pride that swells when they actually come out well!

The gnocchi will be frozen and cooked with a mouthwatering lemon cream sauce. Definitely worth the sore muscles. Until next time, arrivederci!

A Terrifying Event

November 12, 2012 by Leah Leave a Comment

Sometimes you buy a house and things like this show up inside of it. They have evil glowing orbs for eyes. Their very existence terrifies the crap out of you, scares you to tears even, but you still have to deal with them.

And your lazy, useless, good-for-nothing cats just sit there like, “What do you want us to do about it?” Heartless bastards.

So you get the fly swatter out and hack at the thing like it’s about to eat your next of kin. Little pools of blood appear on the linoleum. And then you think, “What if there are more of them?” So you begin to move the mountain of tools that have accumulated in your dining room and lo and behold, TWO more of these creatures have been exercising squatters rights in YOUR home, like that woman in New Jersey who just moved into this other person’s house after finding out they were in Europe for a year. I digress…

You see one heading for shelter beneath the fridge and grab the nearest weapon handy…the vacuum. You suck the living daylights out of the creature, only to realize that it is not making its final appearance in the canister of your very expensive Dyson vacuum. At this point you ask yourself, “What good is a Dyson vacuum with its super duper cyclone technology if it can suck up piles of marbles and yet can’t banish an arachnid?” You heard it get sucked into the hose. You continue to let the vacuum run, staring pensively into the canister, willing the creature to appear. Nothing. You empty the canister. Nothing. You take the trash outside, just in case.

You lose sleep for the next two weeks.

The end.

« Previous Page