Get this - I'm actually shopping for rubbershoes. Why? I got lured. Yes, I was reeled in like a flapping fish... to what my friends and boyfriend claim to be the greatest deal ever. Seven thousand for the entire year? Cheap! That's what they said. And so the impossible has happened - I, the sportless girl, have enrolled myself to a gym (gasp!). But then I realized... I don't have the shoes for it. Nor the clothes. Unless I can wear vintage dresses from ukay-ukay. Right. But let's focus on shoes first. The "clothes" bit deserve a whole new post.

So there I was, strolling amidst shoes I never even considered looking at. Chunky, metallic, utterly style-less innovations promising ultimate comfort whatever sport you're in. Like comfort ever mattered when you've got 3 more inches, slender heels and sexifying straps working to your advantage.

My boyfriend presented me with a white Adidas number with silver web-like trimmings and lime green highlights. He said, "here's a nice one". Nice?!? They're horrible! The thing looks like a ship. And lime green. The flexibility of that color to be paired with any hue other than itself (or white) is slim to none.

He rolled his eyes and proceeded with presenting me with the next style. These ones, he claimed, has shock-absorbers. Can it absorb the shock on my face because of its horridly shocking color and fabric combination? I don't think so.

Next - a pair of Climacools. Mesh overload. End of. No wonder they were on sale.

And so I ask myself... am I emotionally ready to splurge 3,000 bucks for shoes that adds no sex appeal, slimming illusion, or even an inch of artificial height? Shouldn't I just add a couple of hundreds and get myself Nine Wests on sale? But then... I can't gym with them.

The internal battle ensues. Unless someone can help in finding the perfect rubbershoes for a stilleto girl like me.