I never really had to worry about weather-appropriate shoes before. Of course, it was cold enough to not wear sandals during the winter, and I had my hiking boots if I was, you know, hiking, and my tennis shoes for walking a lot. Other than that, anything went. Since I would be arriving just about anywhere by car, I never had to be concerned about whether or not my shoes would be good for walking great distances.
Then I moved here, where I walk across town, a 30 minute jaunt, at least twice a week. And I don't like to limit what I'm wearing by having to coordinate with my tennis shoes. Clearly, something had to be done.
This became apparent a few weeks ago when, during a weekly shopping expidition to Carrefour, Steph looked at my feet and laughed. Laughed! Why? In a desperate bid to make my existing black shoes work, I was wearing black clogs and, to keep my feet warm, ginormous wool socks. Perhaps not my finest fashion choice ever. But really, besides a cheap-ass pair of black boots I bought at Kmart (if you're reading this, Manolo, I'm sorry, I was desperate), I didn't have any other black shoes. So I told him so. Right there in the cereal isle.
I don't usually work the guilt trip angle, but it worked. We went to Marques Avenue yesterday on a shoe expidition. And if you know me well, you know I was in a fit of ecstacy. 'Cause I love the shoes.
That is, until I saw the prices. This ain't Payless, mkay? But Steph insisted we find some good shoes that I liked that would last for a long time.
We found a pair at Salamander. And I love them. And I've never paid that much for a pair of shoes in my life. I am slightly consoled by the fact that they would have been 30% more in Paris, but damn they were expensive.
But they're nice! See?
Yes, not the most focused photo in the world, but I shall attribute that to the excitement of my new shoes.