A shocking revelation came over me yesterday, after returning from a shopping trip; I've become a shoe snob. A simple BOGO sale, where I can take home five pairs of shoes for under $100, just doesn't do it for me anymore. Maybe it has something to do with maturing into my 30's, or maybe I've become more spoiled to quality over quantity, or perhaps Payless should consider designing a shoe that is higher than a half-inch. (The higher the heel, the easier to disguise excess poundage, it's not rocket science people.) Whatever the reason, my credit card company is loving my new found snobbery. However, my husband...not so much.
I realize my obsession for the finer footwear in life, wouldn't be so noticeable, if it wasn't for the frequency in which I feel I must indulge. But shoe shopping is like a drug to me; the smell of the leather that stirs in the air when the salesman pulls the tissue back away from the shoes, or the way the little foot mirrors stop at the calf, leaving you to imagine you have a butt like Fergie's. The entire experience is exhilarating! Although, I do think the experience could be damn near perfect, if Macy's would read my comment cards on employing hot Abercrombie looking models as salesmen, instead of the husky old lady with a stache. (Just makes good business sense if you ask me.)
Although my dilemma has no real resolve, I like to look at it this way...Macy's may be more pricey than Payless, but it could be alot worse...it could be Jimmy Choo or Manolo Blahnik! Thank your lucky stars, oh husband of mine, that my inner Carrie Bradshaw doesn't come out while in possession of our Visa!!!!
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