"No mean feet".

I bought this happiness-in-a-bottle last week at Target.

You all well know that I am a sucker for all things vintage -- so the retro-ey goodness on the package immediately sparkled and caught my eye. (Darn those marketing geniuses -- it's the same problem I suffer from with Anthropologie -- I am such a sucker for anything vintage. If you need proof that I could be the poster child for Anthropologie, you should check out this lengthy, but fascinating article on the Anthropologie obsession for some women, including me, myself, and I. It's almost embarrassing how well they know their devoted consumers, like those stupid horoscopes that seem to somehow shamelessly peg your characteristics...and everyone else's.) Back to the foot lotion: I wasn't so easily swayed by the higher cost -- $10 -- nope, it was really just the knowledge that nothing else has worked to transform my terrible rough heels so I might as well give it a try.

I am unashamedly a flip-flop girl. I may not live in California or even remotely close to a beach (more like smack dab in the middle o' the country), but my tootsies like to see the light of day year-round, even if it is freezing outside. This, of course, means my heels could be likened to sandpaper of the roughest grit. They are horrible. No matter how I try and take care of them, sloughing them off at least once a week, slathering them with lotion, they always seem to find their way back to their sandpaperey state by the next day. I personally have not seen many heels in worse shape than mine.

Thank the good Lord above for Heel Genius. It smells fantastic, is a pretty shade of robin-egg-blue, and it has already been hard at work transforming my heels into happy, friendly, soft heels. So far, I'm sold.

Thank you, and God bless.