I have considered ballet flats a part of my daily (and nightly) uniform since I was about 4 years old. The only problem? They never really fit. It made no difference at all whether my feet were practically skin and bones in the dead of February chills or swollen after a long day of walking up and down the island of Manhattan in mid-August. My heels were always too narrow to keep ballet flats of any kind from sliding on and off my heel. While that didn’t ever stop me from wearing what I consider to be one of the chicest additions to a woman’s wardrobe since, practically, ever, I was a little frustrated that I never looked quite as elegant as Audrey Hepburn or Grace Kelly. That is, until I met Margaux.