19 April 2005
photo I took of ava in cinderella dress-up shoes, halloween, 2004
I can't seem to stop buying dress-up shoes for ava. I think it has something to do with the insatiable childhood need I had to adorn my feet with the most glamorous shoes I could get my small-town hands on. these days, little girlie dress-up shoes are so fancy and sturdy. when I was little, they were fairly plain in color (no glitter, no feathers) with only the slightest heel. mine always snapped in two after about three minutes of prancing around my room, hips akimbo, singing and dancing to k-tel disco records. my dear cousin kristy was my crafty partner in crime and we were always looking for ways to score shoes, ALWAYS. as we got older, our taste became more evolved and refined (holding back laughter here) and we often found ourselves at woolworth's, digging through bargain bins piled high with plastic candies-style high heels. you know the ones I'm talking about -- olivia newton-john made them famous when she wore them with her black satin/leather outfit at the end of the movie 'grease'. the eyes of little girls everywhere glazed over at the sight of those bright red spiky-heeled mules. I can still remember the sinking look on my mom's face as kristy and I teetered out of the dime store in our new faux candies. there we were -- in our short shorts, knee socks and high heels, strutting (and wobbling) down main street, giddy over our $3 purchase.
I guess that's why I get lost in the girlie dress-up aisle of target. I have a very difficult time saying no to all those shiny little shoes with the jewels and sequins and feathers. too bad they don't fit me (don't think for one moment I haven't tried, people). it's been years since I've owned a pair of real dress-up shoes. my obsession has transferred itself to old-school/vintage-style sneakers (adidas, anyone?), with the occasional clog/wedge/mule thrown in for good measure. I live in flip-flops and dr. scholl's during the summer. it wasn't until just recently that I lost my senses over what I would deem the most perfect pair of dress-up shoes (for grown-up girls) EVER. a couple of months ago, I was at betsey johnson salivating over clothes that I couldn't afford and had no place to wear. then I spotted them -- deliciously sparkly and ruby-colored (pictured at right in turquoise). I felt nine years-old all over again. and there, right in the middle of that hot pink boutique (with poor ezra strapped to me in the baby bjorn), I kicked off my sad little black rubber sandals and slipped that shoe on my foot before the tiny horrified sales girl with the asymmetrical haircut could offer me the 'proper size' (or, perhaps another shoe?). I ignored her strained smile and wondered how I could justify blowing $200 on my dream dress-up shoes. true, they're not really anywhere near the style that I tend to rock these days, but PLEASE. don't think I wouldn't find ways to incorporate them into my everyday living. maybe doing the laundry, going to the post office and changing diapers wouldn't seem like such a chore if I had these to strut around in all sassy-like... in the end, I was able to salvage what was left of my common sense and left the store without the shoes. I figure I can drool over the photo of them whenever I like. just the very idea that they exist keeps the little girl in me alive.