There is a law in Carmel (an actual law, which I gather means it’s written down on paper and kept in a Very Important Place) that states you cannot, under any circumstances, wear heels in the city of Carmel-W-T-F. You will be fined.  And possibly sent to prison where you will be forced to wear either shower flip-flops or very ugly high-tops but certainly not, high heels.

Now as someone who chose to backpack around Europe for several months only in heels, I find this highly offensive.  (I kid you not. I had running shoes with me, but I believe you will find they are meant to be used for running. Heels are a much more practical option for walking several miles a day saddled with an 50-pound backpack, said the 21-year old Kara).

So, in defense of tightened Achilles and bad arches everywhere, I ask, “Who are you, Carmel-Are-You -Going-to-Monitor-My-Pants-Now-Too, to tell me I can’t wear this pair of va-va-vooms?

Or it’s sister pair (which just a thought, would be fantastic with colored tights)?

And are you really going to fine me for wearing these practically practical, very in-season little numbers? Maybe fine me for stopping traffic! (See what I did there?  Bam!)

And because I can’t get enough of these fabulous shoes that you can actually walk in (or climb mountains in, if you are a spry young thing), I have to ask – what would my punishment be for wearing these?  And no, “you wearing them is punishment enough” is not the correct answer, Dad.

So, while I do love you, Carmel-by-the-lovely-lovely-Sea – because people actually stop for crosswalks and people losing their harmonicas is considered significant enough news to be covered by the paper -

the next time I visit, I’m packing my  Irregularchoicestore.co.uk heels. So sue me.