Archives for category: shoes

some of the time: we’re heading into the wetter and much slimier part of the season, so it’s back to the wellys! Sporting dresses and skirts topped (or bottomed?) with heels tends to be the strangest thing my customers get to see when they come by my work. At least once a day I hear the comment of either “you don’t look like you work at a seafood store,” or “I could never wear heels here!” I smile, and take it as a compliment. I adhere to the code of dressing for the position I want, not necessarily the position I have. To that end, I have no business in a seafood store, let alone at a fillet table wielding a knife the length of my forearm… but I love it!

Sporting my two inch closed toe heels, I deftly fillet and butterfly fish, cluster crabs, and help my customers select what they would like for dinner. There is a fine tuned art and love I have for the filleting and seafood preparation that is rivaled only by the Japanese and their treatment of sushi. I can fillet a #180lb halibut, a #50+ salmon, butterfly the tiniest trout, and maintain one of the highest recovery rates at my work, and I always credit one thing: love and respect for the food you are going to put in your body. After all, it is going to be part of you, right?

Incorporating my work into my life (and body!) is a lot easier than for most, since all I have to do is eat the very fish I sell… which I do frequently! My home kitchen has become a test kitchen for just about everything that comes in, from rockfish, lingcod, black cod, and my favorite of late: Sanddabs! This year marks the first year we’ve carried these ingenious little wild bottom fishes, and good lord, their buttery flesh is not to be missed! I abused the butter on this one, constructing a meal out of a lemon, half a stick of butter, and local eats: local greens, locally handmade pasta even made with local flour, and some ‘dabs. These little guys are flat fish like flounder, but they are “fatter” in comparison, and, my oh my, they have the most peculiar odor when fresh: reminiscent of high molasses brown sugar. No kidding, brown sugar. Go smell a bag of brown sugar, then go smell a fresh dab. See? Told you so. Amazing, isn’t it?!

sanddabs with classic meuniere

Fresh Sanddabs for dinner!

With love, I put my heels on; with love, I prepare and eat; and with love I give you your fish. If I clustered your crab, filleted your fish, or picked you out the best halibut cheek, know that I did it with love. Not just because are you a customer who indirectly pays me my wage, you are loved and respected just the same as I love and respect the seafood I give you. The love of food and a well prepared meal is a common thread world wide. Food is love, culture, family, and home all wrapped in a beautiful bundle, much like a shrimp gyoza. I make the most of this simple philosophy: I view donning on my heels and dresses is much like the presentation of food, I’m bringing it all together in a neatly tied and pretty package. So don’t underestimate your local fishmonger in heels!


Fine line you say? Depends on how big your foot is. The rush of the holidays are finally gone, even my poor Ficus has had all but the Christmas lights and one last glittery shoe ornament (I think these will remain on the tree, as a reminder of my love/lust for shoes) stripped from it, a definite herald of the passing time. Winter is the time of year that brings me to a mental standstill. I admire the frost laden ground and trees, enjoying the crunch of the ground under my feet, and never lift my mind to think anything deeper than how grateful I really am for living and experiencing life. I could be more ambitious, use my degree, work in a lab altering plant genes to better serve humanity, have a better apartment, live in a bigger city, know more glamorous people, and hang out in better bars. But I think it would be all the same, with more pretension. My unpretentious current company may say I live like a hippy, but I watch them relax almost instantly when they enter my humble home. It’s the magic combination of warm food on the stove,  beautiful plants in the windows, Christmas lights, a clean home, and a cozy sheepskin to sit on. Sure, it isn’t fancy, but my home puts people at ease. That, and I don’t have a couch still, which deters a lot of visitors at once. Thank goodness.

I had this vision of myself when I was about 16. Unlike most girls, I didn’t dream of marriage and a family, my ideal self lived alone with a fluffy grey cat in a highrise apartment in some metropolis. I can still see that image, burned for years into my mind. Shockingly, I find myself in a 2nd story apartment (top floor!!), living alone, with a fluffy grey dog. When this finally donned on me that I am actually living my dream from when I was 16, I had to laugh at how ridiculously easy  simple dreams can be fulfilled. So, I’m not settling. I’m just settling into my dream life… thank goodness it includes fabulous shoes!

happy holidays!

new shoes for fall... seychelles all the way!not the island chain, I am afraid. Another quick dip into the shallow end , these are the latest in Seychelle’s line for fall. Of course I had to get them. What is more classy than a sophisticated pair of black heels? Mustard yellow. Definitely unexpected, and neutral enough to go with any outfit, and still add a nice, oh, how lame is this vernacular, pop. Yes. I said it. For all of you who are really expecting serious writing out of me today (or ever?), I am so sorry for this blatant fascination with fashion. Or at least with the shoe department….which is odd, considering I couldn’t  manage to throw a decent outfit on until two years ago. For some strange reason, one day I got out of bed and decided it was about time I started dressing like a girl. It took me a while to navigate (and am still navigating) what I like, what actually looks good, and oh crap, I found the world of “fancy” shoes. So pardon my dips into the la la land of fashion, it’s not where I live, but I sure like to visit.

selfesteemeveryone has them. Even under the kabuki mask, high heels, and classy for a fish monger get up, I have moments where I feel so terrible, it’s only that magical pair of heels holding me up.  I know everyone on this planet earth have had those earth shattering thoughts come up of complete and utter inadequacy. Although armed with this knowledge and a perfect grasp of how amazing I am, I am shaken down to the very last shred of esteem far more often than I care to admit.  Luckily for me, I have a core group of me fans that remind me where I really stand. As a very good friend told me, “Put the stick down. Can’t you see how bloody you are making yourself?” This seeped into my 12 guage skull, and I could actaully see myself dressed as an executioner beating up myself with a baseball bat. Having recently watched Inglorious Basterds , this was easier than I thought. Put the stick down, everyone. Just do it. You don’t have to beat yourself up, the world will do a fine enough job on its own. You get to simply love you.

my fuzzy little friends

my fuzzy little friends

doesn’t mean you need to add hideous shoes to your shoe collection. I do tend to wander into the shallower end of the pool, and here is a classic example. But seriously ladies, who can resist wearing these instead of your average run of the mill slippers? Why not add a little something extra called style to your everyday actions?

I am not the most stylish person, until you meet my shoes. I wear heels whenever possible, regardless of the situation at hand. Don’t get me wrong, I am not about to don heels to go hiking, but at my work  you may just come home covered in fish slime, blood, and my favorite, random gut bits that have strayed off the table. There you will still find me in heels or classy boots, even possibly a skirt. To all my dissenters that insist I am uncomfortable, or that heels make your breasts sag (untrue, it’s terrible posture that aids in the sagging, sit up straight ladies, shoulders back!!), get your ugly “comfortable” shoes the hell out of my way as I stroll by in stilettos… in comfort. Why? Because I took the time to try on dozens of shoes to find the right pair for my feet.

So here is my dedication to comfy shoes. My darling BC bunny slippers that take the cake. You are welcome to shove your crocs up your ass, as I don’t appreciate them crammed down my throat.