Category Archives: Boots
First bit of advice: never take any article written that uses an unnamed “corporate spokesperson” as its primary source to be a very credible piece.
I said to my husband this morning, as I sipped on my coffee and scanned a few bits and pieces online before work that I felt a rant coming on over something published on Yahoo. OK, second piece of advice: never take anything published as “news” on Yahoo as credible. They make those bitter and self-indulgent Carrie Bradshaw wannabes at Cosmo look like they stand a chance at a Pulitzer for investigative journalism.
The article which raised my ire was entitled “You’re Too Old To Wear That.” Another fluffy piece that suggests women must adhere to specific style standards as they climb the chronological ladder. And the primary “expert” was someone from a company that specializes in anti-aging skin care.
Apparently, a study conducted by said “skin-care company” found one third of the 2,000 women they polled (all of whom were over 45) worried that some items in their wardrobe were age-inappropriate, and 80 per cent felt they “needed to abandon ‘younger’ styles as they grew older.”
“We think middle aged is supposed to be later, but women are saying that in the early 40s a lot of things need to be toned down,” the unnamed corporate source said.
Now, before you think the top of my head is going to blow off, there are some things that I do agree should be retired. Anything that can be mistaken for a sequined napkin being passed off as a miniskirt might be best saved for those “special club nights” and not the office. And I know you guys will all be disagreeing with me, saying a miniskirt is the perfect choice for work, but a lot of offices have these things called “policies” and they’re usually written by stuffy women with self-esteem and feminism issues who subscribe to articles such as this as “workplace attire gospel.”
If there is anything superficial that I get compliments on, it is my legs – and I am proud of the fact that I have the kind which will serve as pleasant distractions for many of you guys. Forgive my moment of vanity, but damn it, I enjoy the attention … particularly “at my age.”
Believe it or not, there are quite a few of us that are perfectly comfortable with our ability to provide a visual distraction. Looking sexy – and seeing that others are noticing you looking sexy – helps us feel sexy, which in turn fuels a lot of what goes on in our imaginations. It’s also a magnificent method of dealing with work-related stress.
Maybe that’s just because I love to flirt.
And, I am intelligent enough to match wits with the best, so this isn’t a habit of compensation or leverage to “get ahead” in a “man’s world.” It’s more in tune with having reached an age where my appreciation for playing the part has greater depth; and the fact that I couldn’t really care less what the majority of my female peers have to say about the length of my skirt or the height of my heels.
The disappointing aspect of articles like these – beyond being “sponsored” by corporations that market anti-aging products to women – is that they add to the societal confines already placed on women. The messages say “you’re too old to wear anything above the knee” and “you’re too old for that colour of lipstick.”
Women should be celebrating their confidence as they “get older.” I am in a much more comfortable place at 38 than I was at 28, and at 18. And as such, I get to enjoy the benefits of that confidence even more. To sit back and think that in three years I need to hide my miniskirts and start shopping for sensible shoes is ridiculous.
In fact, in three years I hope everyone around me will be staring in disbelief with “Damn she looks hot for her age.”
But even if they don’t, I won’t care. I’m not defined by silly notions concocted by the marketing departments and “corporate spokespeople” at companies which sell anti-aging products.
THE OTHER SUGGESTED SILLINESS
- knee-high boots should be retired by age 45
- tattoos start to look bad by the mid-50s
- ditch high heels by the time you are 59
- hair braids only in your 20s
- pants that say “pink,” or anything, for that matter, on the butt
- stop wearing light, short, flimsy dresses as the upper thighs…change…with age
And even though the questions were created on the fly, I thought it might be kind of fun to dig a little deeper into the answers – because I think I have figured out that you seem to enjoy really getting into the naughty corners of my mind.
1. When using a dildo with your partner, where is the most likely spot it will end up?
2. What is the one accessory you can wear on a date to make sure you wind up getting laid?
3. What is the one physical reaction you expect your answer to Question 2 will produce in your date for the night?
4. What is something that you partner might say in bed that would put a damper on your sexual enthusiasm?
As I mention below, sex doesn’t always have to be a serious occasion. Some fun, laughter and light-heartedness is also a good thing. However, short of referring to me by someone else’s name in the height of passion or throws of orgasm, probably the one thing that would put me off is if a guy is talking to himself. The funny answer given by the folks at TMI was “By George I think he’s got it!” For me, that would be just way too weird. First, the George I know in my real life is not all that … and secondly, it would be hard to get visions of Eliza Doolittle out of my mind.
If you don’t know who she is, try reading Pygmalion by … wait for it … George Bernard Shaw. Or renting My Fair Lady, the musical movie version of the same story.
5. Sex doesn’t always have to such a serious thing. What is the last thing you wore to bed that made your partner laugh?
6. When using a washroom in a public place, what is the one thing that will make you risk wetting yourself instead of just going?
There is part of me that is intrigued by the idea of a glory hole experience. The anonymity of the situation, the thrill of doing something I happen to love doing – giving oral sex – is a turn on. However, despite the reality of what a glory hole is, I would still want the security of it being a safe and clean experience.
That said, slipping into most public bathrooms is a test for even the most relaxed germaphobe … and if I see anything that remotely looks like a peephole, you can be guaranteed I will risk the kidney stones, and hold it until I can pee somewhere less disgusting.
What would you say to your partner when they accidentally discover your collection of Playgirl magazines?
I don’t think I ever really got into Playgirl magazine all that much until later in life. I wasn’t particularly drawn to pictoral porn; opting for the more erotic approach of the written word. Now, I have no objection to seeing photos of hot naked men with 0% body fat and hard and stiff …
But I also don’t have much reason to hide any of that.
So, the real truth behind my question to the answer: I hid them there so you wouldn’t find them … relates a lot more to where I store my AA batteries, and how I keep them tucked away for my own battery-operated fun so that my Little Men will not find them and use them for silly things like their remotes for the video game system.
Last week I mentioned the idea how women actually do have panties that only come out off the lingerie drawer when they know sex is likely to happen. I also have no issue with admitting to owning a number of pairs, myself. Come on, if you haven’t figured out by now, I love to get laid and those panties are more likely to get worn out than just worn.
I also have panties that I will wear when I have a sneaking suspicion that they may get noticed, but sex may not be on the immediate agenda … such as those naughty little flashes to men who may not get the immediate opportunity to get their hands on them.
So it isn’t that much of a stretch to accept that I also have certain shoes and boots that never come out in public – except maybe on my website.
As I mentioned just a couple days ago, I know that men tend to be visual creatures. And what the see can have a very positive effect on their libido. One of the fetishes that my husband has is a love of high heels and boots on me. In a way, I am hugely lucky because when it comes to footwear, there is rarely an argument if I want to get some new shoes … and he also has no issues buying some for me if something catches his eye.
What that has also meant is my collection – while not quite Imelda Marcos worthy – has a substantial variety of heels, boots and somethings I don’t know how to describe. Within that collection there are also some pairs that just don’t make sense for the kind of work environment I spend my days in. Especially since the offline me does not really have the same brazen sexuality as the online me.
Hot pink vinyl thigh high boots just don’t go with scrubs and a lab coat … trust me.
When I started on my website, one of the first things we did was invest in some stilettos that would be a little more sexy than the normal dressy shoes I would wear to work. The heels are a little higher, which makes walking in them very difficult. Quite honestly, pretty much most of them barely have any wear on the soles. It’s hard to scuff them up when they spend most of the time pointing to the ceiling.
Now, as I began to get a lot more comfortable with my sexuality and my adventure began to really take off, my personal comfort with fashion began to relax and open up. The more I stepped out of my shell and felt sexy, the more I began to explore the idea of dressing that way. My husband was a great motivator in all of this – and a tremendous shopper. He truly spoiled me as miniskirts, flirty tops, boots, dresses all began to take over my closet.
And with that came the realization that the right kind of footwear can be a great motivator towards getting laid.
So, these days I own quite a few pairs of heels and boots that I know will make the guys at work pause and look … and the guy at home make me point them at the ceiling. Well, unless we do it doggy-style. Some heels I have discovered create the perfect angle of my butt and hips.
Here’s some more sexy heels for a Happy Hump Day!
Hopefully you guys have been enjoying my ongoing photo series Miniskirt Mondays. I plan on keeping it going as long as I have the photos – and legs – to keep you interested.
The miniskirt rose to popularity in the 1960s, and is supposed to be a representation of our liberation from the stereotypes that exist. Now, since this is some 50 years later, I’m not one to cling to stereotypes, but I will agree that the mini is an excellent fashion statement that is directly tied to our sexual freedom … and for some of us, a key strategy when exploring our sexual freedom.
So as we were picking a few of the photos for the next several updates, my husband suggested I write something about why I personally choose to wear them.
Now, keep in mind that some of what you see in my photos will never be seen at the office, the grocery store or hockey arena. And, those that do see the light of day in my more “public” life may not clock in as short as some of those micro-minis some younger women are getting away with.
Andee’s Top 5 Reasons To Wear A Mini
Probably the most logical idea of the bunch, wearing a miniskirt is very much n vogue these days. A miniskirt has almost timeless allure and can be worn in almost any situation – from the office to the beach. So, in keeping with modern fashion, it is appropriate for a number of different occasions. On top of that, wearing the right style can be an exceptionally flattering line for the curves of a woman’s body. Being shorter than most supermodels, I find that long skirts make me appear even shorter than I am, which is not even remotely flattering. The trick is to ensure the skirt is properly complemented by the right shoes … or boots.
At the risk of coming across vain, I love the looks and compliments. To catch a man stealing a peek might offend some women, but it drives me crazy in a very good way. You know, there comes a time in a woman’s life when she has to come to terms with the fact she is no longer 18. To realize that, after childbirth and age have started to enforce their will, you can still turn the heads of a man that is not your husband is an incredible emotional thrill. Even though we may be married and happy, we need to know that we still have some sexuality left in us. I’m also lucky that I have a partner who is extremely encouraging in me pursuing this. And with that encouragement and the confidence it gives me as a woman … well … a happy and horny wife puts a smile on the husband’s face and a twitch in his trousers.
Is it cliché for me to say, I wish I knew then what I knew now? If I knew what I know now when I was young and had a killer body, my wardrobe would have been remarkably different. That said, experience in life is what brings out the confidence in a person. Now that I am in my sexual prime, I enjoy the experience of wearing a mini – and am thankful I have the legs to work it. And with the attention, comes the confidence. And with the confidence comes the power! A miniskirt pair with the right footwear allows me to carry myself with that more obvious sense of authority and being in control – an even better position to be in when it comes time for those employee performance reviews!
I’m not suggesting that less fabric in a miniskirt translate to less money spent on clothing, but I am saying that money does come into play. Here’s my thinking on that: I have a great deal invested in my underwear; some of which I have bought, some of which my husband and some of which was sent to me by you guys. If I hid all that sexiness under long skirts, where no guy ever had the chance of seeing a peek of those naughty knickers, it would be an economic disaster.
And in case you are wondering: some days those little peeks at our panties is totally intentional on our behalf. Seriously. I don’t spend $35 on a wisp of pink lace just for my own pleasure.
Finally, let’s not kid ourselves here … a miniskirt simply provides even easier access when certain opportunities present themselves. And, although I could go on with all the reasons why those opportunities are worth jumping on, or about the thrill of going commando and knowing that there is only a few inches of fabric between my bare pussy and a guy seeing all the business, let’s just leave it with this: at this point in my life and sexual adventure, I am not willing to let any opportunity pass me by!
While I could have checked the standards of choice with my household miniskirt lover, I sought the insight of someone who has spent a great deal of time getting to know me online, my friend Matt. He cares about you guys too, because he has been kind enough to send me sexy items to wear …including those stockings that I put to great use for one of my naughty Twitter moments and photo updates.
This is what Matt says about a woman in a mini: As a leg man, he loves to see a sexy pair of legs, that hint of exposed thigh and how a nicely-fitting miniskirt accents a woman’s butt.
So, who am I to argue with you guys?
I had every intention of getting this posted yesterday for you guys but Blogger for some reason wasn’t playing along. It might have something to do with half of the city being without power after some pretty nasty weather. One guy even described the hail as being as big as Timbits …only in Canada, eh!
Crazy weather…which is a suitable analogy for my crazy lifestyle these days. Well, a tornado might be a better comparison than Timbit hail.
This was something that a guy asked me a while back and I’ve been putting some thought to it along the way. He was asking me to share an experience where I intentionally teased a complete stranger, and things like my website and Twitter did not count.
So for me, I was thinking that I wouldn’t get too much into this summer’s silliness with flirting contests and such, but rather visit one of those memories that I think was a turning point for me on this sexual adventure.
You’ve already read about the moments where my bisexual curiosities came bubbling to the surface, and that small moment of regret I have where I could have taken a bit more control, but drunkenly let the moment slip. Well, this is from the same conference, the previous year. And it’s funny because I’m starting to wonder how we ever managed to take in any of the education from the sessions each year.
I had bought this great brown suede skirt and stiletto boots to wear. On the first night of the conference – before the crazy really set in – my co-worker and I made our way down to the keynote dinner. It was a somewhat dull affair – as can be the case at these events – so after everything had wrapped up, we were in need of a drink. Instead of hanging out with a bunch of frumpy women in sensible shoes discussing the scientific aspect of the speaker’s presentation, we headed off to the hotel bar with the idea of loosening things up.
The great thing about where this conference is held each year is that it is in a hotel attached to an international airport – and that means lots of hot guys passing through for business.
So there we were in the lounge, thinking we were hot stuff, and basically just washing away some of the day’s work and stresses from back home. So much like the stereotype stories, a little bit into the evening a couple of drinks show up for us from a few guys sitting in lounge. Now, at this point in my life my level of flirtatious bravery was pretty minimal as I was just really beginning to discover myself and my desires, but my co-worker has one of those great attitudes about life and it wasn’t a minute later that I am following her to where the guys were sitting.
The conversation was pretty typically for a bit – what we were doing there, what they were doing there, etc. – and as the night continued on a couple of the guys went to their rooms, leaving just these other two guys, my friend and I to carry on. I guess those boys figured there was no chance of bedding a couple of pharma science geeks – especially with the gold bands we were sporting on our left hands.
But for the four of us left behind in the comfy chairs, none of us was feeling any pain and a lot of the inhibitions had softened. One guy and I were getting into quite the conversation. Like me, he was married, so in a way I felt no threat or ulterior motives and the drinks were making it easy to be a lot more open.
At one point he commented on my boots – a flirtatious move, for sure. I hadn’t really been paying too much attention to myself, but as I looked down to my legs after his compliment I realized that my already short skirt was riding pretty high. In fact, given the chairs we were sitting in, I had no doubt that the guys would had been sitting across from me had been getting an awesome look at my panties when my legs weren’t crossed.
I would have thought my friend would have said something, but she was really into her own conversation with the other guy…and as I learned the next year, she was also probably enjoying the view herself.
So, what’s a girl with more than a couple Caesars in her system to do? Some would pull the hem down, but no, not Andee at this point. I did one of those stretch-one-leg-straight-out moves so this guy could get a really good look at my boots – and an awful lot more leg than was originally intended at the start of the whole night.
And this all opened the door for the conversation to go in a more intriguing direction.
As we got more and more comfortable with each other, the innuendo got a bit more racy, until the point where we were openly discussing sexual preferences, experiences and fantasies. I found myself sharing some pretty intimate thoughts ranging from why my favourite sex position is that particular one to the craziest places I had done it. I think I may have dropped the idea of being picked up in a hotel bar by a complete stranger for a night of anonymous sex, but that may be just my shaky memory …
Anyway, there comes a point where things shut down, so as we wrapping up our night in the lounge and those responsible little voices in the back of our heads say “time for bed married women,” my new friend said a polite goodnight and how nice it was meeting us, yada yada. I took the opportunity for what I thought at the time was a pretty bold move, took one of his hands in mine, leaned in and gave him a little peck on the cheek. In my hand I had passed him a piece of napkin on which I had written the address to my website.
“That’s just in case you want to see more of me,” I whispered before trying my best “I know you are watching my ass in this miniskirt” walk out the door towards the elevators.
I went and quietly masturbated in the bathroom … He joined a couple days later …