I've noticed articles of clothing that come into your life are often analogous to the people that come into your life. You never can truly predict what/who is going to stick around, what/who you're going to adore and end up sharing just about every day with. They often grow on you, or prove to be more compatible with you than you ever imagined.
You might see a cute pair of wedges at Nordstrom and think, "There's something about those I like. Are they me? I don't know. They really don't have much in common with my wardrobe. They'll stand out. Will I really be able to put them to use? Well, they're on sale. I'm going to give them a try."
And then you do and you wear them more than you ever thought you could. In fact you start buying things to go with those wedges because you love them so much -- those wedges are an essential part of any clothing purchase you make from there on out because that's how much you've grown to love them.
And so it was with my maroon Seychelles. The first wedges I ever owned -- and the first non black, brown or gray shoes I ever owned, really. They were cute, stylish; they made me appear taller than I actually was. I was surprised at how comfortable I was in them. Not just comfortable with how I looked, but with how I felt. I could walk and walk in them and my feet didn't resent me for it. In the beginning I kept it simple. I wore them with black pants, jeans and a white tee shirt, but then...then I got a little crazy (maybe a little lazy) and just put them on regardless of what other color I was wearing...and you know what? Miraculously it worked. It was as if all my clothes bowed to the dominance of the Seychelles and adjusted to make it work. The shoes had that kind of power. I never imagined how much value I would end up getting out of our years together (I'm actually wearing them in my blogger profile photo where I'm in Roman dancer pose).
But, alas...our time has come to an end. I blame myself. I was so anxious to begin our relationship that I didn't take any kind of cautionary measures to protect them from the elements. They were real leather, yet I didn't bother waterproofing them. I remember that first fateful morning when I wore them to work and then ran in the rain to get into my building. I knew I made a mistake.
That actually wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it was a little over a year ago when I was in New York and as soon as I stepped outside after a night at the ballet, the downpour soaked my shoes and my feet inside my shoes as I ran a block to the nearest Starbucks for shelter. I think that was the turning point. That was when the soles began to warp. They dried and curled and hardened to a point where they no longer stayed put and they poked my heel when I walked in them. Yes, that was the turning point, but the tipping point was when I stepped in mud. As you can see from the picture, I didn't even try to wash it off. I knew it was time to let them go.
Last Saturday afternoon I was at Macy's. I love shoes, but I don't buy them nearly as often as your average girl. In fact, I have more stories about how I almost bought something but ended up not. I would say I buy about 30% of the items I actually want to buy (although there's a jacket at Ann Taylor Loft that I must have. I'm more weak when it comes to jackets than shoes, believe it or not).
Anyway, I stopped in Macy's shoe department. I don't know what I was looking for. I rarely find anything good when I'm looking for something specific. And then these darlings caught my eye:
They're purple. Much like the maroon wedges that seduced me about four years ago, these purple wedges begged for me to give them a chance. Do I wear a lot of purple? No. Me, being the practical purchaser began to mentally inventory my wardrobe. My rule is I have to have at least three outfits that I can wear these shoes with to make them a wise investment. Fortunately, I'm a little boring and wear a lot of black and any color goes with black. I was still feeling insecure so I picture messaged three trustworthy advisers. Only two responded, but because I am my own Chief Executive Outfitter I made the decision to make the purchase.
They're a mid-height wedge. They're comfortable, they're simple, and now they're mine. Please don't judge me for buying something with Jessica Simpson's name on it.