ShoeSense

The first step is admitting you have a problem.

Hello, I'm Scarpediem and I'm a shoe addict.

It started with one pair. They were pretty. Great brand, great quality. Qualities which in and by themselves are laudable but not enough to make my cheapskate self buy them. But then they were 91% off. Naturally, I couldn't pass that up.

And then there came another pair at another pretty discount. I felt powerful, I heard angels sing. With every new pair gotten at yet another ridiculous discount, I would feel this adrenaline rush through my veins. I would admire the luscious leather, the precious hardware details, the beautiful craftmanship, the designer's name elegantly etched in gold letters, the harmonious shape, the lure of comfort and luxury. Like in a true addict, the rush would soon be gone and I would be left alone and in despair, craving more and more of the beautiful shoes. My unrest would only pass with my next dose.

Oh, sure, I rationalized it. I needed to replace my high heels with low heels: my feet couldn't take it anymore, the pain just wasn't worth it. I was getting rid of old, uncomfortable shoes just as I was gaining a new, cheerful, quality, comfortable shoe wardrobe befitting a woman of my age and stature. I really, really needed them--I needed colors, cuts, I needed to match outfits and purses. Besides, these were bargains, and sometimes, downright investments. And they were pretty! What better excuse to find than that!

And so it is that in the past 6 months I bought--yes, prepare yourself for the shocking truth--a total of 24 (twenty-four) pairs of shoes. In the meantime I only got rid of about 12 pairs.

When I ran the totals, it turned out that I got them at an overall discount of approximately 75%.

On the one hand, that is the good bargain shopper, right? These purchases included 4 pairs of Robert Clergerie, 3 of Taryn Rose, 3 of Espace, 2 of Icon, and a various assortment of Casadei, Kate Spade, Franco Sarto, Gabor, Blay, Cole Haan, Delman, and Donald Pliner, all gotten for an average of less than $70 a pair. Surely, my frugality should be admired. Especially when other clothing items and accessories have been purchased in good moderation all this time.

And then on the other, hand, one should laugh heartily at the idea a woman who bought approximately 4 pairs of shoes a month in the past 6 months should even be allowed to pronounce the word "frugality."

For shame.

I do have a problem, dear Internet. I admit it. And there's no other way to deal with it than go cold turkey.

The pain and withdrawal that my system will suffer as a result will no doubt be assuaged by the considerable reduction of my credit card bills.

It is going to be painful. It is going to be tough. But I know I can do it.

My mind will only be preoccupied from now on by the abstract beauty of shoes. You know, the things in themselves, the noumena behind the phainomena, the eternal beauty that transpires from a pair of well-made, beautiful, comfortable shoes worthy of the modern woman. My comments from now on will be purely philosophical and never, ahem, applied.

I can only assume the tremors and foaming at the mouth and general sense of nausea my body will experience in the first stages of shoe withdrawal will subside with time. And medication. Like, a lot of medication.

I've taken the first step. Let the healing begin.

posted by Cristina Hanganu-Bresch @ 9:14 PM