I would briefly like to tell you of my love for purses and shoes. I know it's cliché, but I also know WHY it's cliché. I mean, really, how can one not love things that are just that supremely fantastic?
Brandi came over tonight and we chatted for a long while. Our original intent was to watch a long, dramatic movie like Atonement or Meet Joe Black, but we got sidetracked pretty early on when I decided to work on breaking in some of my favorite shoes. They are a pair I've had since maybe last November or so, but as they have four-inch heels and are pink-and-black-and-white-and-grey satin (beautiful), I haven't exactly worn them anywhere. Story of my life--buy gorgeous shoes, wear them around my apartment, feel good about myself. Then buy more impractical shoes and repeat, adding variety to process with handbags if opportune.
Anyway, as I said before I got sidetracked, we got sidetracked (is there a theme here?) when I went to get my beautiful shoes because, as soon as Brandi saw them, she said something along the lines of, "Oohhh, fun shoes! Are they new?" After which we started discussing my shoe purchasing habits while she tried on the little lovelies. She liked my shoes. I liked that someone else liked my shoes. I made her follow me into my room and try on all my favorites.
We learned that I like bolder shoes than Brandi does, and she didn't particularly care for peep-toed shoes before I gave her some fine examples to try. We also learned that she is much better at walking in tall heels than I am, though I am much better suited for four-inchers at my 5'5" than she is at her 5'8". Especially considering how many of the military men around here are suffering from Napoleon complexes and compensatory compulsions (and rather understandably so).
After I made her try on all my fun shoes, even the yellow round-toe Steve Maddens she didn't care for, we turned our attention to the five-foot-long shelf stacked with purses. It's nearly time for me to switch according to my latest whim, and my large beachy bag just isn't going to make me happy for much longer. I'm feeling browns and tans in preparation for summer's cessation and the advent of autumn (Why yes, we DID talk about figurative language at our professional development session today!).
I don't think I need to buy shoes and bags to keep myself happy. I'm perfectly happy as things are now. I tell you what, though, it's tough for me to pass up a stunning pair of shoes or a lovely handbag when the mood strikes me. It's been months since I've been to my shoe nirvana, www.dsw.com [DSW, Designer Shoe Warehouse]. Yet, I got started on a search for new work pumps just by clicking on a simple email that was sent to my inbox. Hours and dollars and a rewards certificate later, I was able to anticipate the felicitous arrival of two pairs of wedges in a few days. I've been anxious for them ever since then. I'm getting chills now just thinking about it.
It is my bedtime, and this is a story, and bedtime stories have morals: I urge thee, dear friends, in the interest of thy joyful spirits and the spirits of those who surround thee, to submit to thine own frivolous indulgences when the moment is appropriate and the funds are at hand. Do not debauch thyself by excess admiration of thine acquired goods, but delight in both their beauty and their utility. Above all, friends, remember...
...life's always better when you accessorize.
No comments:
Post a Comment