|Rainy day at a subway platform--but with a new pair of shoes!|
My favorite pair of shoes are entirely unwearable these days. They're red pumps from Nine West that made the top of some "best shoes" list on The View back in 2006. They were comfortable until they suddenly weren't, but I took them to college anyways, wearing them a few times my second year before deciding the smashed pinky toe and sore soles weren't worth it. And, yet, they traveled with me from apartment to apartment, city to city, coast to coast--and now they sit in my closet here in New York City where they will inevitably collect dust until somebody stages that "shoe-tervention" that everybody jokes about from time to time.
Anyways, those shoes were the first frivolous pair of shoes I ever bought for no real reason other than just to have them. Every other pair of heels I'd bought before then were for recitals or dances or weddings, and so owning a pair of shoes that didn't already accompany an outfit in my closet was a big deal. Whenever I would feel sad about something, I would take out those shoes and put them on, and somehow I'd feel better--prettier, more confident, whatever. You know that Kellie Pickler song, "Red High Heels"? That was my soundtrack.
And then I started discovering that I could have the same effect on my psyche with a chic pair of flats or a pair of really awesome boots. My first job in college at Albertsons had me wearing the same pair of practical, boring black sneakers every day, and so when I quit, I got a pair of stiletto boots that made me feel like I was moving up in the world (it worked--I got a great job two months later).
So even though I know it's a fairly impractical obsession, and a pair of shoes will never cure me of a cold or sadness or a broken heart, there's a very shallow part of me that is convinced otherwise.
I also bought three pairs of shoes yesterday, so there's that.