The following is an excerpt from a piece originally featured on The Style Con:

There are stacks of shoes in the living room, piles of sandals and sneakers and everything else foot-related we’ve dragged into our little Mexican casita for the holiday weekend. My pair is there: strappy and delicate and now, unfortunately, completely covered in mud. There they sit, simple and feminine, amongst four other pairs of Birkenstocks, none of which belong to the granola-munching, hemp-milk making, farm-working hippie that they have been associated with over the last one billion years. They belong to my friends, who are, if you’ll forgive my boastfulness, some righteously fashionable babes.

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