Blah, blah, blah. I hear ya, but I’m really not listening to you. Why?
Because I have new shoes. And not just any new shoes.
A little background info: Counselor Shelley is in town, and we made our compulsory trip over to Scottsboro to the Unclaimed Baggage Center. This is a pilgrimage we always make when she’s in town. Now, if you’ve never heard of the UBC, this is the place where your luggage ends up when the airline loses it. (Take note: if the UBC taught me anything, it’s the vital importance of making sure my luggage is properly tagged both inside and out.)
If you’re the type of shopper who goes to the store knowing she wants a black knee-length skirt, this is probably not the place for you. Yes, they have black skirts, but they may not be in your size and they may not be remotely what you are looking for. You can’t go looking for any one particular thing; instead, you must be open to the possibilities. For some, this is hell on earth; for others, it’s a shopping adventure.
Every trip is a crap shoot. On previous trips, I’ve come home with the rug in my living room (loading that in to the Bug was an adventure all its own), hammock chairs for my porch, an inflatable bed with sleeping bag for AC, office supplies, and of course, a variety of clothes, shoes, purses, belts, sunglasses, books, and jewelry.
So, Friday morning (after staying up half the night and drinking way too many White Russians), we drag our carcasses out of bed and head for Scottsboro. I have to admit, I was a little disappointed in the pickings this time. Nothing really jumped out at me. I grabbed a new pair of sunglasses (because I’m constantly losing the things and can never have too many pairs), a few DVDs, and I eyeball a couple of those fold up chairs like you take to the ball field. Nothing exciting. Nothing really worth the drive.
Then I find them.
Shoes. And not just any shoes. A pair of black Stuart Weitzman evening shoes. Soft fabric, skinny heels, rhinestones, and ribbons. The epitome of “Thin soled, pointy toed, high-heeled girl shoes.” Soooo pretty. They’re BRAND NEW—the soles don’t have a single scuff mark. And, joy of joys, they are my size.
And they’re only $35! This is a miracle. A sign they should come home with me.
Here are some pictures. DG didn’t get the angle quite right, but hopefully you can see how pretty they are. On the back are four rhinestone circles with black ribbon laced through them and tied into a bow. The toes are very narrow, but not uncomfortable. Totally impractical shoes. No support whatsoever. I won’t be able to dance in them, but who cares if they are shoes designed for sitting instead of walking? They’re pretty, darn it. And they were only $35. I came home and immediately emailed all the Playfriends. (I also looked them up on the internet, and estimate their value at over $200. Possibly more.)
So, I’m still floating with my New Shoes Euphoria. The fact I got them for a steal only adds to the euphoric feeling. This might just keep the “passed the four-month mark on that submission” depression at bay a little while longer. Who needs Prozac? I have new shoes!
So what do you think of my shoes? Do you get new shoe euphoria? If not, what does give you that drug-free high? Have you bagged a brilliant bargain lately?
*But neither can food stamps...