Confessions of a shoe-addict
I was strolling along a fashionable downtown street (something I rarely do) when I skidded to a halt. No, it hadn't finally struck me that my purse was Totally Last Season (it's probably Totally Last Century, given I bought it seven years ago). Nor had I dropped my cellphone and, because it was so slim and modern, been unable to find it without my reading glasses (which, of course, I can also never locate).
I stopped because I'd seen a Vision: the Perfect Pair of Shoes ensconced in a store window, radiating black-suede loveliness. Who could resist? Not me.
Hi, my name is Jocelyn, and I am a sort-of-trying-to-recover-but-not-ready-yet shoe addict -- as, I have to say in my own defence, are many of my girlfriends. Guys seem content with a few beloved pairs. Indeed, they can become quite cranky if they can't acquire exactly the same shoes they bought 10 years ago.
I stopped because I'd seen a Vision: the Perfect Pair of Shoes ensconced in a store window, radiating black-suede loveliness. Who could resist? Not me.
Hi, my name is Jocelyn, and I am a sort-of-trying-to-recover-but-not-ready-yet shoe addict -- as, I have to say in my own defence, are many of my girlfriends. Guys seem content with a few beloved pairs. Indeed, they can become quite cranky if they can't acquire exactly the same shoes they bought 10 years ago.
Shoes in the spotlight
Meanwhile, the women I know swoon over (and snap up) a pair of red patent-leather kitten-heeled sling-backs that would turn even your best outfit into a mere accessory for your dazzling shoes.
So, yes, I went for it -- or, should I say, them. I wandered into the store (trying to fool myself that I was only looking) and all too soon, wandered out in a lovelorn, Visa-shocked daze.
But those shoes called to me deeply. This siren song had nothing to do with high-end brand names. Let the women who smirk and sparkle on the cover of tabloids stockpile their Manolo Blahniks. Poor, rich them. My shoes were modestly priced, and believe me, there's nothing more satisfying than spying shoes that are both inexpensive and also destined for your feet and your life.
Choosing comfort over style
Though perhaps not your daily life. Yes, there's the rub, real and psychological. I'm no longer willing to endure the pain of ill-fitting high heels -- or indeed, any shoes that aren't comfortable -- for long periods of time.
I gave up stilettos when my son was born because I was terrified I'd inadvertently drop him while I was teetering between the car seat and the sidewalk. I also concluded (with, I must say, zero regret) that my youthful, cocktail-party days were over.
But that doesn't mean I can't fall in love with killer shoes. My heart and imagination continue to be snagged by shoes that radiate style. In other words, some shoes speak to a deep femininity that's in us all, even if it's buried under families, food, dishes and laundry. The shoes that seduce me definitely can't be worn at the supermarket. They hold out the promise of style, beauty and grace -- even for me, who takes a 9 1/2 and who spends far too much time at the grocery store. Meanwhile, have I worn the black-suede numbers? You bet. I haven't stopped kicking up my heels just yet.
Spent too much on a new pair of shoes? Check out 11 budget beauty products to boost your mood.
Meanwhile, the women I know swoon over (and snap up) a pair of red patent-leather kitten-heeled sling-backs that would turn even your best outfit into a mere accessory for your dazzling shoes.
So, yes, I went for it -- or, should I say, them. I wandered into the store (trying to fool myself that I was only looking) and all too soon, wandered out in a lovelorn, Visa-shocked daze.
But those shoes called to me deeply. This siren song had nothing to do with high-end brand names. Let the women who smirk and sparkle on the cover of tabloids stockpile their Manolo Blahniks. Poor, rich them. My shoes were modestly priced, and believe me, there's nothing more satisfying than spying shoes that are both inexpensive and also destined for your feet and your life.
Choosing comfort over style
Though perhaps not your daily life. Yes, there's the rub, real and psychological. I'm no longer willing to endure the pain of ill-fitting high heels -- or indeed, any shoes that aren't comfortable -- for long periods of time.
I gave up stilettos when my son was born because I was terrified I'd inadvertently drop him while I was teetering between the car seat and the sidewalk. I also concluded (with, I must say, zero regret) that my youthful, cocktail-party days were over.
But that doesn't mean I can't fall in love with killer shoes. My heart and imagination continue to be snagged by shoes that radiate style. In other words, some shoes speak to a deep femininity that's in us all, even if it's buried under families, food, dishes and laundry. The shoes that seduce me definitely can't be worn at the supermarket. They hold out the promise of style, beauty and grace -- even for me, who takes a 9 1/2 and who spends far too much time at the grocery store. Meanwhile, have I worn the black-suede numbers? You bet. I haven't stopped kicking up my heels just yet.
Spent too much on a new pair of shoes? Check out 11 budget beauty products to boost your mood.
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