The Shoe Whore Wars
Once upon a time I had bad habits. Still in these days I have bad habits, both vile and benign. But once upon that time I had a shopping habit, as a bartender I always had all sorts of cash on hand and most of it never made it into my checking account. In the last four months I have purchased seven pairs of shoes, two today and holy fuckballs they were expensive and so totally worth it.
P and I have had a date to shop for awhile -- I had bonus money burning and she had some extra, so we hit the grands magasins downtown, starting with a lovely lunch at the Rotunda at needless mark-up, say what you will about the twenty-two dollar lobster club, there is something about honoring your grandmothers when you have lunch there, you sit straighter and wish you were wearing white kid gloves. Our friend J works there graciously invited us to lunch and pink Pommery pops which is why I had no problem buying the blue suede shoes, and why yes they are Prada, thankyouverymuch.... Which means that I have to give a little back story..... Having just come from my ex-husband's engagement, my wedding has been on my mind, in uninvited reels. Not painful and not unpleasant, but just, wow, I forgot this, and I remember this. Up in the back corner of my closet in their shoe bag is the pair of pink, silk Prada slippers that I wore with my wedding dress. Now these blue suede shoes are for my brother's wedding.... I am a bridesmaid and I'll be in turquoise, it's a lovely little dress and a color I can pull off with maximum aplomb.... but I was having issues with the shoes - black doesn't really work and I abhor metallic shoes. Silver would really be the best choice, but I just can't.
We have ten minutes to lunch and I see them immediately. pretty, pretty shoes... close enough to the color of the dress, and wedges! for a grass wedding! justifications abound! and pink champagne! sold.
I try on couture, she buys couture. I am reluctant to buy anything that fits above my knees and below my shoulders as I am about to be remodeled, but my feet are small and might I add elegant. Which is how I end up buying the three inch black patent mary janes at Sak's. The justification sounds something like this - P, perfect. Me - uh-huh. P, perfect interview shoes. Me, I 'll dine out on these in portland for sure. Because I'd drink champagne out of them, and if the right man was out there and was suitably dazzled, if he had his balls about him, he'd drink champagne out of my shoes too....
It's been one of those good days, no it's been one of those grand days, ladies who lunch with their favorite gay, good lord does that man smell good. I said to P, as we were decending the escalator, that I could smell him all over the store. Frivolous money, the post coital joy of being able to spend frivolous money, just because I AM GOING TO SET THE EARTH ON FIRE IN MY BLACK PATENT LEATHER SHINY, SHINY SHOES. ALL WILL SEE ME AND OBEY. ok, well maybe not quite so allcaps, but you get my drift.
Later, spent after the spending. We had dinner with P & M's neighbors and danced the eighties in our really tall shoes. The more things change, the more they stay the same. We are still playing dress up, it's just the stakes are higher, as are the interest rates. I can remember when twenty dollars was a lot of money, just like I remember when it was nothing at all. And I remember the bitchslap of the bubble, coupled with divorce, and twenty dollars was suddenly a lot of money again, just as most of my peers were starting to engage in the pleasure and perils of disposable income. I have never felt a more profound shame in being as positively poor as I was then. I was far too proud to hit up my family for money, and I muddled through. And I did. And just like every other human being I have a really complicated relationship with money, specifically having what I haven't earned. I think there are quite a few of us out there, trying to reconcile our places in the world... what am I ever going to do, I'll never match my father's earning power, things could change, but it's not looking bloody likely and how am I ever going to be able to pay it forward?
I could go on and on, but it's bath time.
Once upon a time I had bad habits. Still in these days I have bad habits, both vile and benign. But once upon that time I had a shopping habit, as a bartender I always had all sorts of cash on hand and most of it never made it into my checking account. In the last four months I have purchased seven pairs of shoes, two today and holy fuckballs they were expensive and so totally worth it.
P and I have had a date to shop for awhile -- I had bonus money burning and she had some extra, so we hit the grands magasins downtown, starting with a lovely lunch at the Rotunda at needless mark-up, say what you will about the twenty-two dollar lobster club, there is something about honoring your grandmothers when you have lunch there, you sit straighter and wish you were wearing white kid gloves. Our friend J works there graciously invited us to lunch and pink Pommery pops which is why I had no problem buying the blue suede shoes, and why yes they are Prada, thankyouverymuch.... Which means that I have to give a little back story..... Having just come from my ex-husband's engagement, my wedding has been on my mind, in uninvited reels. Not painful and not unpleasant, but just, wow, I forgot this, and I remember this. Up in the back corner of my closet in their shoe bag is the pair of pink, silk Prada slippers that I wore with my wedding dress. Now these blue suede shoes are for my brother's wedding.... I am a bridesmaid and I'll be in turquoise, it's a lovely little dress and a color I can pull off with maximum aplomb.... but I was having issues with the shoes - black doesn't really work and I abhor metallic shoes. Silver would really be the best choice, but I just can't.
We have ten minutes to lunch and I see them immediately. pretty, pretty shoes... close enough to the color of the dress, and wedges! for a grass wedding! justifications abound! and pink champagne! sold.
I try on couture, she buys couture. I am reluctant to buy anything that fits above my knees and below my shoulders as I am about to be remodeled, but my feet are small and might I add elegant. Which is how I end up buying the three inch black patent mary janes at Sak's. The justification sounds something like this - P, perfect. Me - uh-huh. P, perfect interview shoes. Me, I 'll dine out on these in portland for sure. Because I'd drink champagne out of them, and if the right man was out there and was suitably dazzled, if he had his balls about him, he'd drink champagne out of my shoes too....
It's been one of those good days, no it's been one of those grand days, ladies who lunch with their favorite gay, good lord does that man smell good. I said to P, as we were decending the escalator, that I could smell him all over the store. Frivolous money, the post coital joy of being able to spend frivolous money, just because I AM GOING TO SET THE EARTH ON FIRE IN MY BLACK PATENT LEATHER SHINY, SHINY SHOES. ALL WILL SEE ME AND OBEY. ok, well maybe not quite so allcaps, but you get my drift.
Later, spent after the spending. We had dinner with P & M's neighbors and danced the eighties in our really tall shoes. The more things change, the more they stay the same. We are still playing dress up, it's just the stakes are higher, as are the interest rates. I can remember when twenty dollars was a lot of money, just like I remember when it was nothing at all. And I remember the bitchslap of the bubble, coupled with divorce, and twenty dollars was suddenly a lot of money again, just as most of my peers were starting to engage in the pleasure and perils of disposable income. I have never felt a more profound shame in being as positively poor as I was then. I was far too proud to hit up my family for money, and I muddled through. And I did. And just like every other human being I have a really complicated relationship with money, specifically having what I haven't earned. I think there are quite a few of us out there, trying to reconcile our places in the world... what am I ever going to do, I'll never match my father's earning power, things could change, but it's not looking bloody likely and how am I ever going to be able to pay it forward?
I could go on and on, but it's bath time.
posted by emma at
11:43 PM
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