Stellina Imelda Marcos

Her feet have barely touched the ground and the kid's already outgrown her first shoes -- incredibly cute brown Robeez slippers with cherries on them. They served to keep her socks on and helped people ID her as female. "What a cute..." they'd say as they scanned her bald head and yellow & brown monkey outfit. Ah hah, cherries! "...girl." These apparently connote infant femininity. Lately they've served as teething fodder as she attempts to cram both feet at once into her future (cherry) pie hole.

As a recently fallen vegan, I wouldn't have bought her leather shoes, but they were a gift, and I've guiltily loved them so much that I've been in a quandary. Do I size up and contribute to the hideous hide-stealing industry? I decided I could live with buying them second hand, and found a ton of them on eBay. I don't know what came over me. Perchance it's that I haven't shopped for anything besides maternity pants, baby gear or groceries in the past year. I've been shuffling around in my pilly yoga pants, nursing tanktops and generic Converse kicks, unaware that a lil' shopping spree was needing to take place, with or without my consent. I went into an altered state when I saw all those Robeez on the electronic auction block. Cupcakes! Lady Bugs! Butterflies! Flaming guitars! I intended to buy one pair. I won five. Five pairs of shoes that will fit for maybe three months, for a kid who isn't yet walking, as we go into bare feet season. And yes, those are two identical pairs.