Six months ago, I whittled my embarrassingly vast wardrobe
down to nine paltry items for thirty days, on journey with Jen
Hatmaker’s
7.
Today, I stomped around town in pink and orange striped flats, bought for a song at our local grocery store.
These flats encapsulate my inner struggle so perfectly that I’m
tempted to leave well enough alone and let them do the talking. But in
the end, no one can be expected to concentrate when it comes to talking
grocery store shoes – no matter how cute they are.
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