Or Shoe Psychology 101
The Mister gave me a very generous birthday gift and then sent me off to the Mall to spend it.
Friends, this was ten full days ago. 240 hours ago. A whole-lotta minutes ago. And this is where the scary story begins...
I was in search of a Black Dress, because my old one is tired. But anyway, I went into the dressing room with a pile of clothes and dresses all in various shades of black, brown, denim and red, which has been my wardrobe color palette for the last decade (why do I always end up with clothes in these colors?). The dressing room Gal looks at me and says, "Can I get you a pair of pumps to try on with those dresses?"
"Sure," I say with a chuckle, "if you carry my size."
"What size would that be?"
Large, I think to myself, the biggest feet west of the Mississippi to be exact. My husband calls me Freddy, as in Flinstone.
"A size ten?", on a good day when there is no moisture in the air and my corns aren't bulging.
Really, my feet are about as wide as they are long. But I'm OK with it, for the most part.
She brings two pairs of black pumps. The first pair are solid back with slightly open toe and they look fabulous with the dress, and, AND! they are on sale. But they hurt. Just a little.
The other pair have a swoop-y bow type thing just before the open toe. They are much more comfortable, and twice the price. No thank you.
After a bit more shopping I decide it isn't worth the price to buy shoes that are uncomfortable, even if they were the cutest little things you could ever see, on sale, on a Saturday afternoon, when you are buying a Little Black Dress.
OK, here is the scary part.....
Are you ready...
I have been unable to stop thinking about shoes ever since I left that store. And! To add insult to injury, I have tried to go to the DSW twice since then and both times I was D-E-N-I-E-D! Hello? Why is your store closed so early on weeknights??
The second time was actually my fault, I booked too many errands in one day and didn't have sufficient browsing time.
I am just ITCHING to go buy a pair of shoes. OK maybe two pairs of shoes. I usually only buy new shoes* a couple times a year, in the spring and in the fall, but when i get the Buying New Shoes Bug, it comes with a vengeance.
(*except for running shoes, but they are not very fun.)
As a side note, I would like to tell you another story. This story will help you to understand my shoe issues, and perhaps, give you a glimpse at my longtime enjoyment of shoes.
When I was a young girl of seven or eight years, my Mom took both my little brothers and I to the doctor. Unfortunately we all had to have shots. My Mom, kept mum on the subject, no doubt to keep the peace, and keep trauma down to a minimum.
I can remember the very moment that I knew we were gonna get shots. The examinations were over but we were told to stay. I just knew, by the unspoken words and the feel in the air, that that nurse was going to come in and give each of us immunizations. I began to get nervous.
You see, I had a fear of shots back in those early days, and I must have had a propensity for dramatics (although I have never, no, not ever, been accused of being dramatic) because my Mother began damage control, before things got out of hand.
I can distinctly remember a pair of espadrille sandals I had been dreaming about; they were blue, and they were beautiful. I can remember fretting over the pain that was to come when my Mom leaned over to me, looked straight into my eyes, and said in very serious and well thought out tones, that if I took my shot like a man, she would buy me those sandals.
And something magical happened inside my little mind. I had a mission. I had to be brave.
I can remember the nurse taking my left arm, and turning my head to the right, and I did it; I took a shot in the arm, and didn't even wince. Oh! sweet blue espadrilles that tie around my ankles, come to mama!
We went straight from the Doctors office to the shoe store, and a precedence was set.
I think the real reason why I like to buy shoes in the fall is because deep down in my psyche I am afraid. I am afraid because October is when Americans celebrate Halloween. And to assuage my fear I must buy shoes.
So it is my Mother's fault that I am obsessed with shoes.
Mwha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa!
I told you this was a very scary story....Aren't ya scared?
Happy Halloween from your shoe lovin' friend at La Vida Dulce!
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Or Shoe Psychology 101
Posted by Kellie A at 4:51 PM