Posted by : Wendy B Thursday, 14 July 2011
Shoes have names now. Perhaps they always did, but I was not really introduced to them.
Back in my SparkleSlut clubbing days, I had shoes. I had very funky shoes. Some of them came from that really funky shoe store in Chinatown that always had "going out of business" sales that suited my part time department store budget. I did not have many shoes. Just enough to go with the crazy outfits - the staples, if you will (I was very practical):
- Black fancy
- Black slutty
- Black funky
- Black comefuckmeboots
- White fancy
- Beige funky
- (still bitter that the silver boots that would have gone perfectly with the silver corset and "skirt" did not fit)
Otherwise, I've never considered myself a slave to fashion -- except maybe in junior highschool when I so desperately wanted turtlenecks under polo shirts and pinned jeans just so I could be like everyone else. (Mental note: teach my kids to be proud of individuality.)
In my maturity, I have overcome this desire and now just buy clothes that I like that aren't ridiculously expensive. Truth be, if I won the lottery, I'd still be shopping at Suzy Shier.
I just don't get the brand name thing. Shoe-wise, I do appreciate that a sexy heel makes for a sexy leg and arse (yes, I saw that episode of Bones) and I am not opposed to wearing them, but I don't get the need to have a ridiculous amount of shoes. And I don't get the need to have someone's name on them. My sister-in-laws will go on and on about their designer purses and shoes and I'll just smile and nod and find better things to do because really, I've never met Michael Kors and I don't really care to so why do I need his name on my feet?