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"  I was the only woman in the room in pants. Well, except for the video producer, but she was behind the camera, so she didn&amp;#039;t have to look as stylish as the rest of us: four mom bloggers, a psychologist and the host, all of whom were wearing lovely, flouncy skirts and tops or feminine dresses. All, except me, that is. I looked down at my blue tailored button-down shirt, brown pants and sensible shoes and thought, I&amp;#039;ve really got to stop dressing like I might suddenly need to run. After the video shoot, I went to lunch with one of the mom bloggers. As we crossed a Manhattan street, I realized she couldn&amp;#039;t move as fast as I could. Maybe it was because my legs are longer than hers, but I&amp;#039;ll bet it was her shoes that slowed her down - gorgeous, but very high-heeled. If I wore those, I thought, I&amp;#039;d be able to see that the top of the fridge needs dusting. And who needs that? But when I had to go back into the city the next day to play grown-up again, I tried to appear more like a modern version of Mary Tyler Moore &amp;quot;turning the world on with a smile&amp;quot; and less like a writer who doesn&amp;#039;t get out much. So I put on a very girly white blouse with eyelets that my mother had given me, nice Capri pants and matching (sorta) high heeled shoes. On my scale of femininity, this was farther to the right than what I normally wear. I mean, I had to look up eyelets to write this paragraph. As I went about my day in the big city, I admit, I felt very pretty, oh so pretty. A few heads turned when I walked by on the street, and I don&amp;#039;t think it&amp;#039;s just because I was late for lunch. Apparently, women don&amp;#039;t usually run in high heels, so I must have looked like I was filming a commercial for panty liners or escaping from potential harm. When I got home, I loaded the kids in the car and took them to my son&amp;#039;s eye doctor appointment and then went food shopping. By the time we hit the produce aisle, I&amp;#039;d had quite enough of the flouncy shirt, which was getting between me and the freshly watered lettuce, and my high heels, which were beginning to hurt. I couldn&amp;#039;t wait to change. As we reached the supermarket doors, it started to rain. I thought, Ladies in flowy white shirts with eyelets and high heels wait for it to stop. Then I put my grocery bags down, slipped off my shoes, picked up my bags again and ran toward my car. It wasn&amp;#039;t pretty, oh so pretty. But it was me. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/parenting/a22229/why-i-should-always-wear-flats/>