Dorothy Did Not Wear Crocs
I’ve decided how to tell when you are living a life of luxury. Shoes. Not just the fact that you own some designer shoes. Anyone can save up their Starbucks money and buy a pair of Manolo Blahniks. It’s when you can go the shoe store and see a pair of shoes that you know would go perfectly with an outfit in your closet, and you actually go ahead and buy them.
Well, everyone does that, you think. In fact, isn’t that the point of actually going to the shoe store in the first place? But look at that last sentence in the first paragraph carefully, and you will realize your mistake. “An” is the key word. Yes, a pair of shoes that will only go with one outfit. That is true luxury.
I went to the shoe store yesterday, and found the absolute perfect pair of red shoes. I’ve never bought a pair of red shoes in my life. Because, let’s face it. How many outfits will they actually go with? There are 10 million shades of red, so you probably won’t wear them with a red skirt or blouse. So you have to be a little more daring, and try to slide them in as the third color in a combo, like black and white, or gray. Or you can be a patriotic red, white, and blue. Attractive.
So it was foolish of me to even try them on. But they beckoned as I traveled down every aisle. I’ve been crushing on red shoes ever since I watched The Wizard of Oz movie the weekend I unknowingly had the chicken pox. (Long story.)
I reasoned that, once I slipped them on, they would look awful and I would be able to abandon them with a clear conscience. But that turned out to not be the case. I could tell that heads were turning admiringly as I strutted toward the long mirror in my tank top, khaki shorts, and three inch red pumps. I was certain that those shoes could transform me into the sexiest forty-two year old at next weekend’s soccer game. Or a hooker.
But I could only think of one outfit that I owned that might even be a possible match for these lovely shoes. And it was not the one I had on. (Come on, people, I’m not a complete dufus in the fashion department.) I tried desperately to think of others. But nothing came to mind. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t pull off the high heels with bobby socks look that Dorothy rocked. And I am not at the point in my life where I can spend eighty dollars on a pair of shoes that can’t multitask.*
So I tearfully packed the shoes back up and forced myself back down the more utilitarian aisles of beige, black and brown shoes. But I left with nothing. It was too depressing.
*Some of you might feel obliged to recommend the ultimate multitasking shoes – Crocs. Yes, I am aware that you can buy them in every color of the rainbow and that they are oh, so practical for any occasion. At the risk of starting a blogging controversy, I would like to ask you to please refrain from suggesting Crocs. I do fine on my own looking like a clown, and do not need any other fashion accessories to exaggerate this image.