Barefoot Tess

tess is, in many ways, your typical twentysomething girl. she loves movies, tennis, sushi, her dog hank and her hometown of baltimore — and most of all, she loves clothes. since she can remember, she has spent hours poring over fashion sites and magazines to carefully dissect what designers are showing and celebrities are wearing, and she firmly believes that the thrill one gets from wearing a new dress is the best mood elevator out there. but tess had a problem. for years, when she had nearly succeeded in putting together a perfect look — perhaps an outfit that mixed a timeless investment piece with a trendier item or a cheeky vintage find — she found herself getting ‘tripped’ up in the same place: what to do with her woefully, inescapably bare feet. wearing an 11, she was unable to find shoes in her size that met her aesthetic standards; the suggestions of salespeople to try something in a men’s or comfort style met with her rightful indignation. fortunately, tess refused to settle f