As I’ve said before, I like to live under the delusion that I’m a minimalist at heart who’s just failing a little. One area I’m not failing in is the clothing arena, specifically shoes. I have exactly three pairs of shoes, a pair for hiking, running, and whatnot that my mother-inlaw got me because I didn’t own any and she thought I should, one pair of cute flats that I’ve had since high school… neither of those find their way out of the closet very often because in Phoenix whole shoes are a bad plan. I also have a pair of sandles that I wear everywhere all the time that are like five years old.
That is, until last Sunday, when the sandles broke… broke in a way that duck tape cannot fix. I was half devestated (cause now I had to spend money on new shoes) and half elated because the brand that I like has WAY cuter styles now than they did when I bought these back in the day and now I had an excuse to get some.
So after doing the weird broke-shoe-shuffle home from the restaurant I was at when it happened I got online and started checking out my options. That’s when the moral brain twisting started…
Me: “David, so I’m looking at shoes and there’s a FABULOUS pair that I love like only a woman can love a pair of shoes… but there’s also a perfectly ok, not sucky pair that are $30 less.”
David: “So you’re getting both?”
Me: “Don’t be stupid. I need you to tell me which ones to get.”
David: “You do know you’re allowed to own more than one pair of shoes, right?”
Me: “You can only wear one pair at a time, now quit trying to make me all extravagant and help. $30 is $30… that’s like five meals at Chino Bandito. Five meals at Chino Bandito is not something to take lightly.”
David: “I’m not going to be able to focus on anything you’re saying now that you’ve got me all hungry for the Chino.”
Me: “Stop not taking this seriously! There are two little men in my head, one is my frugality and the other is my, albiet limited, sense of fashion. They’re both wearing suits of armor and they’re fighting with swords and I need you to help one of them win.”
David: “You’re so much weirder than you realize.”
Me: “And you’re useless to me right now.”
So the mental anguish continued. On one hand the idea of spending thirty extra dollars purely for the sake of vanity made me start to twitch a little, but on the other hand… (cue super high pitched girly voice) OMG THEY’RE SO CUTE! I went back and forth over the issues all day, everyday, I brought it up to just about everyone I talked to (which I’m sure only made them think I’m even weirder than they already did), I lost sleep over it.
Meanwhile, I went barefoot. Everywhere.
Then Thursday afternoon a package arrived… which I opened to find the fabulous, more expensive, pair I was in love with.
Me: “David! Look at these shoes! Where did they come from!?!”
David: “I ordered them Sunday night right after we talked about it. I knew you would take a completely inappropriate amount of time to decide, that is if you ever did at all, so I took over. Jenna, this may come as a surprise to you, but you do in fact need shoes.”
Me: “What if I would have ordered a pair myself in the meantime? How do you know I didn’t? Maybe there’s another pair in the mail right now that I ordered and then we’ll be stuck with two pairs of shoes.”
David: (looking at me like I just declared that my name was Mrs. FuzzyBritches and that I was raised by a cup of coffee) “Uhhh, Jenna I know you better than that.”
So I have some shoes. And they’re awesome and I love them, they go with everything, and now I don’t have to debate shoe choices for another half decade or so… thank god.
