These flats smell like my life, and they’ll burrow into your brain until you crave that funk. I’ve worn them until they’re part of me, and every crease, every damp spot, is proof that you belong beneath my warm, pink soles. My flats are a promise that you will kneel.
Watch, sniff, remember. You can’t resist the urge to worship, to taste, to be wrecked by my shoes. I’ll make you adore the stink until your only thought is serving these brilliantly filthy flats.