Well, it happened again. I tried to stop it, but it was
inevitable. It’s a common occurrence; a problematic symptom of an imaginative
“disease” that I’ve convinced myself exists (perhaps in an ideological, yet
conceded world). A desire, nay, a need, to try to be the absolute best I can be
in my own mind; a reflection of what I perceive to be the best in the eyes of
the fashion world. Today, I purchased a new pair of shoes.
It wasn’t my intention – I swear. I was simply spending a
lovely day with my mom. I was showing her around a constantly developing strip
mall that I can’t help but frequent on a weekly basis (even though I am the
marketing manager for a shopping centre and spend my days in a mall). I started out the day with the conviction
that I would not spend a dime. I survived a trip through a clothing outlet
(that was a difficult one); and another through a lingerie store (they were the
lucky recipients of my money last weekend). But, then it happened – a shoe
store was on the horizon. We stepped in through their “helm” (umm, okay, their
entrance… perhaps I’m being a bit too dramatic), and it was then that I was
powerless against the command of the shoe.
I swear I never had the intention of purchasing anything. I
was simply wandering up and down the aisles admiring the stunning bright
colours of the spring and summer styles that will eventually be parading up and
down the streets of Halifax once we escape the winter weather. But, then it
happened. I came across a pair of wedge shoes. They were nothing too fancy or
extravagant – they were simply grey and suede. They had a small shoe lace that
secured them to you foot. Nothing too spectacular, but as soon as I saw them I
knew there were destine to be mine. So, I did what you should never do when you
see something you want yet know you shouldn’t purchase – I tried them on. Then
it happened… I saw how the wedge heel made my feet look so petite and my legs
so long. I saw how cute my feet looked and I felt how happy they made me feel
and I felt how I needed to bring these dear shoes home with me.
The usual “no, I shouldn’t” and the “I really shouldn’t”
occurred. I put them back, I picked them up again. I walked around the store
carrying the shoes, pondering if we should have a life together. Finally, I
made my way to the checkout. I pulled out my wallet, and the rest, as they say,
was history.
I am now the proud owner of a high-fashion bootie. We are
extremely happy together and there is no regret that this relationship was
forged!
Curious to know what shoe I purchase? Here is a photo of my
new shoes:
So, what do you think??
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