The first word my goddaughter, Georgia, uttered some eight years ago was “shoes.” I’m not making it up! Her mother called me up from England to tell me; her father was none too pleased. In fact, her mother and I met over a pair of shoes—clogs specifically—in 1981 when my family moved to Oxford, England. Kate and I were both wearing the same pair (shoes were the only way to jazz up our dreary gray uniforms), and she crossed the playground to comment on such. And so the beginning of decades of friendship, during which for the past 28 years we have signed off every letter and email detailing which shoes we’re wearing. So Georgia comes by the obsession naturally. The first pair of shoes I gave her when she was just born were some palest pink suede Tod’s baby driving mocs, because let’s face it, every baby needs a pair. I feel confident Georgia doesn’t read this blog, so I’ll share that this year she will be getting a rather chic pair of Herringbone Sparkle Mary Jane Tiny TOMS. (And remember, for each pair purchased, TOMS will send a pair to a child in need.) I love the glitter in the toe, and if anyone can pull these off, it’s Georgia. Happy Christmas!