It's A Fine Line Between Pleasure and Pain
I did something special today. Something I have never done before. Something I've only dreamed about, but never actually acted upon.
Today, I tried on a pair of Jimmy Choos. And they were good. My feet have now been shod in the most fabulous of fabulous.
I popped my Choo Cherry.
The day started out innocently enough. Went to work, dealt with a couple of problems, and then it was time for lunch. My friend R wanted to get something to wear under the bridesmaid dress she has to wear on Friday. Spanx. If you don't know what Spanx are, you need to learn. But that's another topic for another day. Anyhow, the closest location that sells them to our office is Saks. So off we went. As we stood in the elevator, the shoe department was calling me. We took care of R's errand, and then indulged ourselves. We went shoe shopping at Saks.
You might think people would find us odd, as we cavorted through the displays, picking up Yves St. Laurent here, Christian Loboutin there. Cooing over them. Gasping in delight. No one seemed to find it odd. I don't think we were the only ones.
we spied the sales racks.
First, I tried on a beautiful pair of Stuart Weitzman evening sandals. Magenta silk. Peep toe. 4" heel. Next, a pair of Pucci espadrille thongs. My hands stopped of their own accord over the Choos. Gently lifted them from the rack. They were a pair of platform sandals. In denim. 4" heels on these, too. Ankle strap. I stood there, balancing on one leg, while I slipped my foot into one. It felt like I had come home. R ooohed and ahhhhed. They looked so good on my feet. Let me tell you, the thought of a 4" heel may sound painful and scary, but dear God, these felt like slippers. I shit you not. I stood there in them for a good couple of minutes. Mentally trying to find the money somewhere. They were originally $575, but on sale for $350! Finally, R got practical, and reminded me we had to get back to work. I reluctantly took the shoes off and returned them to the rack.
I was sad.
Fast forward to tonight. I get home from work. I kick off my ballet flats, and go on a search for my slippers. I love my slippers. They're called Zaks, and my sister-in-law gave them to me for Christmas years ago, swearing they were the most comfortable slippers ever. She's right. I have worn them out. They are in a sorry state. They have holes in the toes, and the fleece lining is popping out. So my husband Bruce looks at them, and says "you need a new pair of slippers for your birthday" (which is July 29, if anyone is interested...) I responded - "no, what I need for my birthday are the Choos I tried on today at Saks!"
Bruce: WHAT were you doing trying on Choos at Saks?!!!
Me: I HAD to.
Bruce: $350 is too much money to pay for a pair of shoes.
Me: Are you high?
Bruce: That's as much as 2 8 balls cost!
Me: I'd get more enjoyment from the shoes for longer than I would a couple of 8 balls.
There are two things here that stand out. One, I have found grounds for divorce from Bruce. Speaking against the cost of the Choos is sacreligious. Yet, I have found another reason to love him.
My husband knows what Choos are.
I'm a lucky girl.
Today's shoe. The Choos, in all their glory. Except not in denim, because I couldn't find a picture.
Jimmy Choo - Velvet Platform Sandals>
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
It's A Fine Line Between Pleasure and Pain
Thursday, June 22, 2006
The Colors! The Colors!
"You can tell a woman likes shoes if she's wearing bright blue loafers"
This keen observation was made by one of my colleagues yesterday. She was talking about me, of course.
She also was wearing a fabulous pair of peep-toe, black suede pumps with a wood platform wedge. To die for!
Anyway, her comment got me thinking. What does your choice of shoe color say about you? Do you play it safe with neutrals, or do you break out the bright blue loafers? I like shoes of color. I have a pair of red snakeskin boots, my blue loafers. silver slingbacks, gold ballroom dancing shoes (yes, you read that right), burgundy suede ankle boots, well, you get the picture. I still don't have as many colorful shoes as I think I should, though.
I notice when I wear any of the more colorful shoes in my wardrobe, I feel better. There's a spring in my step, a little sashay to my stride. Conversely, when I wear my more staid and boring shoes, I tend to slump a little. Not that I have many staid and boring shoes, mind.
I'm not knocking a fabulous pair of black pumps. Not ever. They are always right and always in good taste. But a fabulous pair of red pumps is right up there. Or black patent, which is a whole 'nother animal.
The only exceptions to my colorful shoe love are the ones you know I hate about all others. Crocs. Those suckers are hideous. I hope that is a trend that dies a swift and horrible, painful death.
So bust out the color, my dear friends! Your feet and your pscyhe will thank you for it!
BCBG Max Azria 'Mallies' Sandal
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Seventeen years ago I was just leaving Dallas to spend the summer in Tours, France. I was going to live with a family and immerse myself in the language at the Institut de Touraine. That also happened to be the summer of the 200th anniversary of Bastille Day. I really don't have words enough to describe the party in Paris that year. As always, my summer was about shoes as much as anything else.
I was with a group from SMU in a study abroad program; we spent the first week in Paris just having fun and touring the city. I had left for Paris with two pairs of shoes because I knew I wanted to buy shoes and clothes there rather than bring a huge suitcase with me. Unfortunately, the walking shoes I brought were woefully inadequate and I didn't have time to search for shoes in the first week we spent in Paris. I ended up borrowing another girl's Keds and tooling around Paris looking like a bobbysoxer. That was OK for the time being; I would have time for shoes later.
When we left Paris and moved to Tours we went our separate ways to separate families and were free to spend our time doing whatever we pleased. On the first day in Tours I headed to the Place (one of the oldest in France) to look around in shops and get the feel for Tours, a lovely old town. As I was strolling through the Place I spotted something in a shoe store window: a pair of bright red ballet flats with bright red satin laces. I immediately knew that I had to have those shoes. Unfortunately, they were $200 and that was too rich for my student's budget. All summer I cajoled and pleaded with my mother long distance to let me use her Amex to buy those shoes. Finally, as the summer was ending she relented and I rushed to the store to buy them. They were Fiorucci and they were fabulous.
I never wore those shoes. I finally broke down, twelve years later and took them to the Goodwill. It was a huge mistake and I regret it to this day. I was moving from Los Angeles to Lubbock (gack!) and trying to start anew. Trust me ladies, giving away your little pieces of fabulous to the Goodwill is never the way to start over. Never.
Today's Favorite Shoe:
Thursday, June 15, 2006
I had a dream the other night that I was shopping for fabulous shoes at Bergdorf's. I was trying on impossibly high stilettos and trying valiantly to appear stable in them but failing miserably. I finally gave up and tried to convince a chic looking woman to buy a pair of Escada sandals. She told me she couldn't because she had children. I woke up and thought, now there's a valid reason not to have children.
Most people dream of flying; I dream of fabulous shoes.
Today's Favorite Shoe:
Charles Mang "Miss Jones"
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Crocs are taking over the world, aren't they? I was shopping at Dillard's the other day and noticed that they not only have them in the shoe department, but they also have them on display in other parts of the store. As my friend Jen says, shoes should never come on a hang tag.
Speaking of Jen: we went to Target (happy place) the other day to look for something. What was it? I don't remember. Anyway, I didn't know Target had knock offs of designer shoes! How did I not know this? We were walking past the shoe department and there, in the middle of the first aisle, was a Manolo knock off. Granted, it wasn't nearly as elegant and really didn't look like a Manolo, but there it was in all its glory. Unfortunately, there were also Croc knock offs. However, we proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jen's son Braden is the smartest kid on the planet. He saw the Crocs, yelled, "No Crocs!" and tried to run away. Oh yeah, I love that kid.
I know I obsess over Crocs, but people! a shoe that can go in the dishwasher has to be something we all reject. Has.to.be. And for the record? the last time I was in the po po none of the nurses were wearing Crocs. I checked!
Today's Favorite Shoe:
Pedro Garcia "Doris"
Monday, June 05, 2006
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
Or something like that. I haven't been blogging much because I started a new job, and it's taking up all my time. I haven't even shopped for shoes. The HORROR.
One of the many good things about my new job is that there are many women there who love shoes. A lot. There are fabulous shoes walking around that office on a regular basis.
Which leads me to the story I must tell. One of my new colleagues told me this story the other day, and I knew I had to share it. She graciously has allowed me to post it here.
R is Columbian. She travels there regularly to visit family and friends. When she was a teenager, she was taking a bus trip with her father, her friend, and her friend's mother. So they're driving down a mountain in a bus. Apparently, the bus had brake problems. The driver knew this, and was being careful as he drove down the mountain. Not careening at a high rate of speed, or anything like that. It was raining. The bus hit a slick spot, the brakes failed, and the bus flipped over into a ditch filled with water.
R remembers getting out of the bus. Her friend was out of the bus as well, screaming for her mother. R realized that she couldn't walk properly. "Was she hurt?" you ask. No, thank God. She had lost one of her shoes. Shoes she was fond of. So she did what any of us would do. She started to look for it. Which involved crawling back into the bus to search for it amidst the muck and detritus of the accident. She finally finds it floating along and puts it back on.
She then sees her dad draped over her friend's mom, passed out. Her friend's mom is trying to push him off her. Her friend is still screaming for her mother. But R has her shoe.
Her dad woke up, he was fine, got off her friend's mom, and everyone got out, none the worse for the wear, just bumps and bruises. And a recovered shoe.
R is my kind of woman.
Charles Daved 'Whist' Sandal