I spend a lot of time scanning fashion websites that sell stuff. I call it market research, but the truth is, I am addicted, if not to buying stuff, than certainly to knowing what is out there — what I could, at some point, buy. I am constantly pursuing the thing that doesn’t exist: the shoes, sunglasses or jacket that will change me. That will add an inch of hair to my head, derail negative-thinking spirals or alleviate the tension between my mother and me. At its best, it might also eradicate a toothache, at its worst, it is just another thing that collects dust in a closet in my room.
I know stuff can’t change me. I know it better than anyone else! I have gone on shopping cleanses and subsequently written dissertations on the merits of abstaining from consumerism. I have given away so many of the belongings I have accrued that it is both startling and worrisome I still have anything left. I have promised that I’ll never buy another pair of shoes again. That brings us to what we’re doing here today, inside this blog post.
Balenciaga has recently released a satin mule with a slanted kitten heel and pointed toe so sharp it is actually called “a knife point.” These shoes look exactly like the hideously marvelous mules that my mother used to wear, their toe point so long that it sticks up like the front of a cowboy boot. I can think of a million reasons why I should not get them: I have a pair of fuchsia, satin kitten heels by Rochas, which I purchased in December, for one. A yellow pair (also satin), gifted by Miu Miu last September, for another. There are also the black satin Manolo Blahnik mules I received last year as an agnostic holiday gift. Never mind the mustard satin sandals by The Row from last summer or the very pair of red ones that I, myself, made in March (which, to both my delight and chagrin, you can get for 70% off on Net-a-Porter right now).
But I digress. Knife point. Wherever I turn, it’s like they follow. I know they don’t mean to, particularly because I am the one who keeps searching “knife-point mules” at every one of those aforementioned turns, but they’re just so good! So green. Unlike any of the other shoes out there. But I guess this is what consumerism does to you: makes you feel like you genuinely need something that you don’t. That if you don’t have them, you won’t feel complete. Which is why you end up buying them.
But once the transaction is complete, once the shoes are on your feet, once you’ve walked a long-enough mile to judge what they do for you (not much, but definitely blisters), you’re finished. So as with any good drug, you go back, eager, looking for more.
I know all of this well enough to spend 500 words talking about it, but guess what? I still got them. I am weak, but so excited to meet them. I really think they’ll change me!