NOT just any red pair -- but a slick, patent leather, shiny red, open-toed, slingback pump with 4 1/2" heels. Yes, that was my "she's-pms'ing-very-upset-and-mad-at-the-world" shoe that I purchased on Monday.
The story goes like this:
I was a little more than stressed out (you know, same old issues -- money, work, children, teenagers, men, diets, etc, etc.) And I was a little more than sad (three days before my period, I'll cry if the gas station doesn't have the right sugar for my coffee). So Monday I left early from work and headed to TJ Max to get some Egyptian cotton sheets (thinking sleeping on silky, expensive sheets would inspire me to be happy).
I cruised through the aisles, shopping peacefully, and then I saw them. On an end cap. Shiny. Red. Well-built. Sexy. I was in love. With Jessica Simpson, patent leather, red high heels. I picked them up and held them. I passed. Then I came back, tried them on. Then passed again (too expensive -- although really not too bad; too high -- although really quite comfy; nothing to wear them with -- although who really cares; I'm too old -- although they make me feel young).
On my next pass through, I grabbed them and shoved them in my cart right next to the barbie doll, the sheets, and the tablecloth. It was a thrill, I tell you! A total rush of adrenaline! I had to call my best friend, Elle, to tell her about my purchase. I laughed as I left her a message I'm sure her teen-age daughter got a kick out of: "Hey. I'm standing in TJ Max and you know what I have in my cart?! A pair of red patent leather shoes with a 4 1/2" heel, Jessica Simpson brand......." My sentence trailed off into an exuberant giggle.
Amazing how a pair of way-too-high heels can change your mood. My entire drive home, I was thrilled that I had this little stash of happiness hiding in the back of the car. Before I got home, I told everyone I saw (my sister-in-law, my belly dancing teacher, the mother of one of my children's friends) about my red too-high heels. Everyone wants to know what I'll wear them with. Shoot. Does it really matter? I HAVE 4 1/2" HEELS IN RED PATENT LEATHER WITH A SLING BACK AND SLIGHT OPEN TOE WITH JESSICA SIMPSON'S AUTOGRAPH ON THE SOLE!
When I returned home that evening, I put them on (my first chance to wear them). I could hardly stand, let alone walk. I came around the corner and I'll never forget the look on John's face. He wasn't sure whether to smile, laugh, or run away. I was rolling with laughter - the first time in three days. He said, "Oh-Oh. Now I'm in trouble." So I sat on my living room chair, hanging my legs over the arms of it, twirling my feet around and staring at my red shoes. All my worries, my sadness, my panic attacks, my stress, rolled down my body and shot out of the 4 1/2" heels.
I sat there for a long time, my four-year old poking at the shoes and trying to figure out how she could get them off my feet. She said I had Dorothy shoes and I clicked my heels together and said, "There's no place like TJ Max." She giggled and I told her I'd get her a pair of red shoes too (but sparkly ones with no heels). She was content with that and stopped trying to pry the shoes off my feet.
My shoes sit next to my bed. Waiting for me when I get home. I'll put them on and just stare at them. Strange, I know. But somehow 4 1/2" spikes give you strength, power and a good laugh. Mostly, when I tell people about my shiny shoes, they say "what?" like they don't understand. And when they ask the questions (where? with what outfit?) I tell them: "I will wear my red way-too-high heels in my living room, sitting on my couch, in my sweatpants. Sometimes with a good magazine, and sometimes just twirling my feet off the edge."
Some people drink when they're upset, some smoke, some sleep. . . I buy gorgeous, shiny, sexy, red, patent leather, open-toed, sling-back shoes with 4 1/2" heels that I'll probably never wear outside of the house (but I will pack them in a bag occasionally and bring them along so I can show people). It feels way better than a beer and lasts a lot longer. (Try it!)
The story goes like this:
I was a little more than stressed out (you know, same old issues -- money, work, children, teenagers, men, diets, etc, etc.) And I was a little more than sad (three days before my period, I'll cry if the gas station doesn't have the right sugar for my coffee). So Monday I left early from work and headed to TJ Max to get some Egyptian cotton sheets (thinking sleeping on silky, expensive sheets would inspire me to be happy).
I cruised through the aisles, shopping peacefully, and then I saw them. On an end cap. Shiny. Red. Well-built. Sexy. I was in love. With Jessica Simpson, patent leather, red high heels. I picked them up and held them. I passed. Then I came back, tried them on. Then passed again (too expensive -- although really not too bad; too high -- although really quite comfy; nothing to wear them with -- although who really cares; I'm too old -- although they make me feel young).
On my next pass through, I grabbed them and shoved them in my cart right next to the barbie doll, the sheets, and the tablecloth. It was a thrill, I tell you! A total rush of adrenaline! I had to call my best friend, Elle, to tell her about my purchase. I laughed as I left her a message I'm sure her teen-age daughter got a kick out of: "Hey. I'm standing in TJ Max and you know what I have in my cart?! A pair of red patent leather shoes with a 4 1/2" heel, Jessica Simpson brand......." My sentence trailed off into an exuberant giggle.
Amazing how a pair of way-too-high heels can change your mood. My entire drive home, I was thrilled that I had this little stash of happiness hiding in the back of the car. Before I got home, I told everyone I saw (my sister-in-law, my belly dancing teacher, the mother of one of my children's friends) about my red too-high heels. Everyone wants to know what I'll wear them with. Shoot. Does it really matter? I HAVE 4 1/2" HEELS IN RED PATENT LEATHER WITH A SLING BACK AND SLIGHT OPEN TOE WITH JESSICA SIMPSON'S AUTOGRAPH ON THE SOLE!
When I returned home that evening, I put them on (my first chance to wear them). I could hardly stand, let alone walk. I came around the corner and I'll never forget the look on John's face. He wasn't sure whether to smile, laugh, or run away. I was rolling with laughter - the first time in three days. He said, "Oh-Oh. Now I'm in trouble." So I sat on my living room chair, hanging my legs over the arms of it, twirling my feet around and staring at my red shoes. All my worries, my sadness, my panic attacks, my stress, rolled down my body and shot out of the 4 1/2" heels.
I sat there for a long time, my four-year old poking at the shoes and trying to figure out how she could get them off my feet. She said I had Dorothy shoes and I clicked my heels together and said, "There's no place like TJ Max." She giggled and I told her I'd get her a pair of red shoes too (but sparkly ones with no heels). She was content with that and stopped trying to pry the shoes off my feet.
My shoes sit next to my bed. Waiting for me when I get home. I'll put them on and just stare at them. Strange, I know. But somehow 4 1/2" spikes give you strength, power and a good laugh. Mostly, when I tell people about my shiny shoes, they say "what?" like they don't understand. And when they ask the questions (where? with what outfit?) I tell them: "I will wear my red way-too-high heels in my living room, sitting on my couch, in my sweatpants. Sometimes with a good magazine, and sometimes just twirling my feet off the edge."
Some people drink when they're upset, some smoke, some sleep. . . I buy gorgeous, shiny, sexy, red, patent leather, open-toed, sling-back shoes with 4 1/2" heels that I'll probably never wear outside of the house (but I will pack them in a bag occasionally and bring them along so I can show people). It feels way better than a beer and lasts a lot longer. (Try it!)
Added later: To feel powerful and strong in way-too-high shiny red patent leather Jessica Simpson opentoe slingback pumps (that's a mouthful!) go to my squidoo page: http://www.squidoo.com/bakedbeans/ and scroll all the way down to see them in my pretend shopping section. Give them a vote. They deserve it!
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You have thrilled all woman-kind with your red-shoes story! We all left our bodies and just imagined how great it would feel to own and actually walk around in the shoes you described! This may well be the answer to PMS and all its crummy symptoms! Just a little something exciting! And you know what? I can bet "John" will love them, too. Just tell everyone you'll be wearing them with NOTHING. . . but your birthday suit. That ought to do it! ! ! Good luck, and GOOD story. When I was recovering from delivering my second baby, I was depressed at my size and shape, couldn't sleep - "baby blues" they say. Anyway, my husband couldn't seem to help me, and my sister visited bringing two skimpy bikinis for me. . . I squealed with delight. My husband said he had no idea that two little pieces of fabric could make me feel so much better. Good show.
We're all waiting for more adventures! What's happened while you're wearing those magic shoes? Tell, tell, tell! ! ! !