Why Shoe Shopping Is Good Therapy for Your Ego

Sperry Leopard FlatsFriday Funnies: I’LL DO JUST ABOUT ANYTHING for a new pair of shoes, they don’t even have to be sexy heels, pretty much anything will do. I’m addicted you see. Over the years I have become a master… make that mistress Imelda of finding excuses to purchase new shoes.

This time I’ve got a really good one because one of my dreams is coming true. It’s the romantic one where I captain a large sailboat somewhere in the Caribbean with Blue Eyes. Naturally no skipper chick in her right mind would be seen trimming the sheets on a 36 footer without a stylish pair of Sperry Top-Siders. You know, the white soled leather kind that doesn’t slip on wet surfaces. Preferably in a shade to match her flowing white linens and red Chanel lipgloss.

Oh, I can picture myself already… my pretty shoes will be the envy of the Islands.

So at last, a perfectly plausible reason to venture out to the chi-chi shopping mall. Haven’t been since Christmas and you know what happened then… very pricey sunglasses and diamonds. I stay the heck outta there, I’m dangerous.

Visions of glory play in my head I strut purposefully into the mall and make a beeline for the Sperry footwear shop. It’s not far from the entrance, just have to pass through Macy’s where I pause briefly to slip on fifteen shoes from the display tables. I daren’t catch the saleslady’s eye, could be very expensive. Thank goodness I completely miss the earth shattering shoe sale they’re having and I wear virtual blinders as I zip past the shimmering cosmetic counters.

Oooohhh the will power…

t gets worse as I enter the innards of the mall, only 100 feet to go but they are fraught with tall, slender pretty Italian young men with accents peddling cosmetics or whatever the hell from a myriad kiosks. Almost as come hither as the shoes except shoes don’t talk. These fellas do.

Sperry Top-Sider

“Ciao, Bella, where are you from?” “Toucha this… please, it’sa so soft” (No idea what he wants me to touch, I daren’t look).

One be-ponytailed Club Med-ish young ‘un beseeches me “please… come back to me, I just want to ask you one question” as he looks deep into my eyes, motioning me over with his finger. Honestly, that commandeering look reminds me of my father calling me over so he could administer a stiff spanking.

Can’t get away fast enough. Maybe that works with a twenty year old. Poor fella has a lot to learn, or did he pick that move up at a strip club. Maybe he’s an Italian version of Chesterfield Men, er… Chippendale Men. You know, face cream salesman by day….

Seriously, who the heck falls for that stuff anyway? Got to hand it to the folks who do the kiosk hiring though, this is the cream of the pretty European boy crop and it’s a nice touch. What woman doesn’t like a little eye candy now and then.

But I am on a shoe mission, damnit!

Getting past the young Mediterranean cuties is like running the gauntlet, but somehow I make it into the desired shoe shop unscathed.

At the Sperry shoe shop I make out like a rock star, after trying on twenty pairs of shoes I leave the salesman exhausted but happy. The store is three pairs of shoes lighter (haven’t told Blue Eyes about the sparkly flip flops yet) and I am smiling big time.

God bless the shoe fix.

Blue Jeans

On my way out through the gauntlet again I cave and let Roy, a lovely young brunette longingly smooth cream onto my inner wrist while he works diligently  to seduce me with his eyes. I’m pretty sure he’s on commission.

“Please take my personal cell number, I really want to take you for a drink”, wow, he’s trying really hard, does he have any idea I could be his mother? Oh wait, Italian men love gals older than them, hmmm…

To extract myself from this situation without doing any more credit card damage I stuff the phone number in my jeans pocket and head home to prance about in my new Sperrys for Blue Eyes.

Forget remembering how to change the impeller on a sailboat diesel, I’ve got the cutest three pairs of Top-Siders you ever did see, oh and and ego boost to go with it. maybe I didn’t get sexy heels but my ego is six inches taller.

Maybe I should go to the shopping mall more often.

HotwireEsmée St James