New Shoes!

Brace yourself, dearest invisible friend. I have BIG news.

I went shopping.

I know!!! It's not my talent. It's not even enjoyable for me. It's usually something I do only when absolutely necessary, when I look at my clothing or shoes and realize that whatever it was originally, it's now just a mass of thread held together by habit or luck. And I know I shouldn't put it off as long as I do. I know it makes me look sloppy. But I hate shopping.

It depresses me. I hate looking at myself in the mirror, wearing something that doesn't fit or doesn't look good. I hate looking at the things that I think are so pretty, but I cannot wear. And I HATE spending the money on this stuff!! Do you know how many books I could buy with that money? Or cooking/baking equipment? Or hell, sushi dinners?

But, as per usual, I've veered off topic. It's a good thing I don't drive the way I blog.

My dear friend Carla, whose birthday it is today, was an excellent shopping mentor. Actually, she was an excellent shopping enforcer. She would shove me into the dressing room, ignore the whining, and throw clothes over the door. Then she would tell me what to buy. I loved that.

BUT! This past weekend, Roommate and I went shopping with her mom. AND Macy's had shoes on clearance. AND my work shoes were looking a wee bit ragged. So these are my new work shoes:
Not terrible, right? Not like my photography skills. Which are abysmal. But I bought them. They fit. They're useful and sensible. And they were on clearance!!!

Since I was looking at work shoes, I glanced over at a pair that looks like these:

Hm. They didn't set my world on fire. I couldn't really use them for work. But I did need a pair of non-work shoes to wear while being tortured by the tiny blonde sadist [personal trainer] and the hideous Brazilian Butt guy.

Meh.

But it was sensible. If I'm going to do this wretched exercise thing, then I have to plan for it. I have to have the necessary equipment for it. And even though that equipment consists mainly of sweats, shoes and the floor of my living room, all three pieces are fairly important.

But...they were on clearance, too, which eased the sting a little. Sigh. It's sensible. It's necessary. It's logic in action.

And that's as long as that behavior lasted.

Because then Roommate and I both tried on these:

Oh, yeah. No logic here. I can't wear them to work. Roommate made it through an hour in them yesterday at her job before switching to her new flats. I almost never go out enough to justify owning them, or co-owning them with Roommate, since we wear the same size shoe. These shoes make zero sense.

But these shoes live at my house now.

And strangely, despite their ridiculous height and complete lack of support...I feel no sting at all.

Heh.