It's been five months now. Of no trying on any shoes. Of avoiding shoestores so I don't chuck a fit in the middle of the shop, looking at something I cannot have. Of looking longingly at other women's footwear while I'm out. And I'm starting to crack at the edges.
A bad, bad sign that I'm going into withdrawal is when I start to browse online shoe stores. This is the worst thing. When I am free to roam in my natural habitat (the KL chain shoe stores) I am perfectly happy to covet normal-priced goods. When I am reduced to drooling over shoes in the really good online stores, the products are inevitably designer: they come with 3 to 4 digit price-tags in American dollars, Euros or British pounds. Even more depressing. But I need to look at them. So purtyyyy. Yesterday I spent 2 hours looking at the stuff they had on bluefly.com when I should've been doing assignments.
I'll also start to lose sleep. I lay awake at night, fantasising about the perfect shoe. The perfect shape, material, shine, heel height, heel type, colour.
D'Orsey cuts, ankle-straps, slingbacks, pumps, slides, sandals, espadrilles; black, brights, metallics, prints; leather (matt? patent? crocodile? cow? snake? pig? kid? natural black leather? dyed leather?), canvas, suede, satin, chiffon, sequins, crystals, chains; pointy-toed, round-toed, peep-toed, square-toed; flats, low heels, medium heels, stilettoes, wedges, platforms, stacked heels. The list goes on. I could go on. Bliss.
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Once, I went without buying (or trying on) new shoes for about 8 months. I was broke and too guilty to use the money my parents had set aside for my study allowance. So I myself broke. I am not proud to reveal this: I cried. I ran into my housemate's bedroom and burst into tears, crying the Ugly Cry, water coming out every hole on my face, wailing about how I hate having a conscience and "dammit I wish I could be a prostitute because at least then I'd have money!" Shameful, eh? The things we say in times of desperation.
She patted me on the back, looking slightly appalled that I was crying over non-existent shoes. But she became very sympathetic because she realised she'd be a wreck too if she had to go without buying new bags(her "thing") for 8 months. Anyhow, I felt better after that.
I don't know how long I'll hold out this time around. But I'll be strong. Maybe 10 months before I cry about it. Heh.
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It's not even that I'm starting to dream about shoes because I need to buy them all the time. It's more because I know I can't. And the more you can't do something, the more you want to. The more you can't have something, the more you want to have it. (Come to thingk about it, maybe that's why there are so many people out there who do things they shouldn't.)
Oh but they're shoes.Unlike clothes, they do not pick and choose whom to flatter, whom to make delirious with joy. No matter how you look, there will be a shoe to flatter you. I read somewhere once that "shoes are the fat lady's outlet--if you were fat, you couldn't have pretty clothes, but you could still have all the pretty shoes you wanted". See? Shoes are all about free love and equality.
