During my recent trip to Las Vegas, we took a window shopping stroll through the Wynn, where my in-laws were staying. I was calm, cool, and collected until I saw this, and stopped dead in my flat, equestrian-chic boots:

Spellbound, I dropped Paul’s hand, and floated toward the open doors of this store, my eyes and mouth wide open. I may have stopped breathing.

“It’s, it’s…” I silently opened and closed my jaw, willing the words to form in my throat and come out. They didn’t. I lovingly fingered the stately black plaque on the wall, and peered around the corner.

The salesman looked at me, and smiled. I tripped into the store, breathless, and out came each and every word I had been trying to produce for the last minute. All at once:

“Ohmygosh! It’s—you’re—they’re! Manolo Blahniks! They’re so beaaauuuutifuuuul! Look! Oh, feathers! Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh! Could I, um, take a picture? Please!”

Too amused by my reverence to be concerned about the accompanying threat of hyperventilation, he kindly let me snap away to my heart’s content.

I was particularly fixated on these feathered beauties:

As I lingered over them lovingly, cooing, my brother-in-law Justin strolled in.

“Justin!” I gasped. “Look!”

Justin is an acclaimed jewelry designer in New York, and isn’t quite as bowled over by encounters of the exquisitely feathered kind as I am—such things are de rigueur in his beautifully decorated world, but he’s sweet enough to humor me.

“Wouldn’t they tickle your toes?” he asked.

I turned to face him.

“Honey—I haven’t felt my toes in years.”

We all have those pieces hanging in our closet—you know, the ones that we bought because they’re just so darn pretty, but for whatever reason, haven’t worn.

I look at these items in my closet often, but sigh and pass right by them. They’re too wonderful to purge, but I haven’t figured out what to do with them.

That is, until today. I grabbed two of the “just can’t figure out” offenders, and set about styling them in a way that I would—and could—wear.

The first is this Dolce & Gabbana dress that I bought AGES ago, at a vintage store with the tags still on it, for $90. It’s one of my thrifting victories, for sure. But it has these annoying black bra straps which never seem to go with anything, and feels too 90’s. So, I tucked in the straps, threw on a $5 necklace from F21, and vogued it out to Madonna:

The second piece is a floaty, sheer top that I also picked up a-thrifting. It’s adorable, and has a pouffy chiffon flower at the back. I toned it down with cuffed boyfriend jeans, my favorite green suede shoes, and a necklace from Subversive’s target collection: