Sep 27, 2011

Shoe Up On My Week

I have a soft spot for shoes + I have shoes on the brain this week = I am soft in the head.
I wrote about shoes over on Found It Loved It today and I thought I'd elaborate here because I've had a shoe-and-tell kind of week.

As I mentioned in my column, I bought myself sparkly silver shoes.

When the package arrived, I couldn't have been more surprised to find these shoes in the box than if someone else had bought them for me. I needed flats—practical run-twelve-blocks-because-I'm-running-late flats—but I ordered sparkly silver heels. I haven't surprised myself that much in a long time. Less surprisingly, I tried to convince myself that the crossover elastic top was so comfortable that they might just do the job. I'd be the bee's knees picking my son up from the schoolyard. The cat's pajamas sitting at my desk here at home. The bee's pajamas and the cat's knees if I got hit by a bus on my way to the Post Office. "But they'd be handy to have" I argued with myself. Handy for those days where I need a little sparkle. Handy for those nights when I need my sparkle to be elastic. 
I just returned them ... but I think I should go get them back.

My mother sent me sheepskin slippers from Australia. 
They're "Woolly Wonders." It's kind of a big deal to get a package from my mother. Actually, it's kind of a big deal to get a package from anyone in my family; we're great at gifting in person (expending great thought and money on each other) but a disaster when it comes to sending packages. We all lie to each other about having "popped" something in the mail last week, when in reality it could be another three (okay, five) weeks before we drag ourselves to the post office and shove something in the mail. 
My mother was telling me over the phone that she had sent a pair of Woolly Wonders to my grandmother and I suppose I said "oh they sound soooo amazing" more than a few times in response because she went back to the shop and bought a pair for me, too. (By the way, "went back to the shop" should not be skipped over here. Going back to the shop in New York means walking ten blocks—albeit in silver heels—and stopping in Starbucks on the way back. Going back to the shop in Western Australia means driving two hours, and hoping that you car and conscience—but mostly your car—won't get dented by jaywalking kangaroos. No Starbucks on the way.) My slippers/two sheep for my two feet arrived without a note, or wrapping paper, or fuss—but within a week of our phone call. The unwritten note spoke volumes. My feet have never been happier.

I cut the legs off a pair of boots.
I love boots. I love how easy it is to get dressed when you start an outfit with a pair of boots so I have a few different pairs of boots—vintage, flat, high-heeled, black, brown, dressy, casual (okay, I'm rounding down when I say "few"). Anyway, last year I added this pair of gorgeous reddish brown boots to my rotation. I got them on sale but they're Frye (the only brand I am loyal to) so they were still a pretty penny. I had read reviews that the shaft of the boot is a little slack, but I thought "not with my calves." 
Well, it turned out that after a few weeks of wearing them, they started to slip down. I loved the solid walkable heel and quality of the leather so much that I held on to them. [I realize I'm rambling here like an old lady who thinks you care about her lactose intolerance, but I might be going somewhere with this.] By mid-winter they were like socks without elastics. I took them to a cobbler-who-is-also-a-drycleaner and he added elastics to the top (sidestory: his wife yelled at me for not paying him enough and he yelled at her to shut up and she glared at me for making her husband yell at her); that did the job of keeping them up ... but completely ruined the look of the boots. 
Fast forward to last week when the weatherman gave us a few teaser days of autumn and I found myself dusting off my collection of boots. I took out my boots, stroked the soft leather, and cut the legs—and all that bad bunched-up karma—off. Without thinking twice. 

Now I love them.

I also bought wellies this week ...

but they came a day after the rain stopped so right now they are just shiny new unwet-wellies in a box, without anything to say. Thank God for that.

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