Suffering for fashion - annual version

It's here again, the season of foot skin rubbed raw and sometimes bleeding, blisters raising and popping and oozing as bare feet become accustomed all over again to direct contact with shoe leather.

I just made the mistake of actually looking down at my feet. I'm wearing the same loafer-type 2" heels I've been wearing for about a month that seemed perfectly comfortable when wearing trouser socks, but somehow have turned into torture devices without them. I knew that my heels were getting rubbed raw; what I didn't know was that a layer or five of skin has actually peeled back, revealing fresh, unprotected pink skin underneath which is, no doubt, destined to turn into pools of oozing bloody mess by the time I get home tonight.

This happens every stinking year.

And people wonder why I like winter. At least then my feet aren't bleeding. Plus I don't have to keep up with my pedicures (note to self: need fresh pedicure badly).

On the flip side, the Cuz came on Saturday to pick up more of her stuff and drop off Bianca for me, and cut my hair for me. I went a bit shorter than I normally do, with the layers around my face a bit shorter, too. And amazingly, with the increasing wave in my hair . . . I find I have a wash and go hairstyle. No, seriously. I mean, I have to wait for it to dry, but it just all falls into the perfect place, including a right side that looks like it has that perfect 40s pincurl bang. I've washed it and let it dry twice now, and it's done it both times. Now I'm afraid to use the blowdryer.

Edited: when I got home, to add the above pics showing a wound, and the offending torture devices. I also forgot how my feet and ankles swell in heat. Lovely, don't you think?

Edited again: Over there on the left, see, that new pic of me? That's the perfect 40s pincurl bang. I had to preserve it for posterity just in case it never happens again.