I want these shoes so bad, I'm considering a sex change

My God, are they beautiful or what! That Bitch Ph.D featured them on her blog and I reproduce them here, courtesy of Anne Klein (only $274.9, order here).
If I had a child or a Cezanne, I could easily trade either of them for a pair of these.
Question: Are they worth me having my cock sliced length-wise and its skin folded into a hole furrowed into the fork between my legs to construct a vagina? Almost. Almost. I'm considering.
Or should I just buy these heavenly divine sublime shoes, show them to the nearest woman, and promise to give them to her -- as long as she lets me fuck her while she wears them?
I'm at a loss here. Suddenly I understand what it is with women and shoes. I've GOT to HAVE these shoes. Maybe I could keep my cock but wear lipstick in the same rose shade, and get myself a very red dress with a slit up one thigh.
I don't know what's happening to me. Sweet reason and gender identity fly out the window when confronted with such beauty. I should have been born a woman. Shoes like these make it not only worth being a woman, but IMPERATIVE being a woman.
This I know for sure: when I die, I want these shoes to be the last thing I see.