By a show of hands, how many of you have ever gone shopping and ended up buying something completely different from what you had originally intended to buy?
Good. I’m glad we’ve had this talk.
So, last summer I was acting/ directing/ choreographing/ costuming a really cool play with an incredibly awesome, inspiring, talented group of people. This is because I am arguably the luckiest person in the world.
Anyway, moving on. I went to the thrift store to see if I could buy some antique oil lamps, I believe. Actually, I may have only been pricing them out. Small matters.
Either way, I walked in and saw THESE SHOES on the sale table and I was like, “Shoes. I see you there.”
People who are serious about thrifting know that there is an intense psychological-battle that accompanies each and every serious thrift store shopper.
One cannot appear too excited about a purchase or rush towards an object because, in doing so, OTHER shoppers might spot and grab said item FIRST.
And, as it’s a thrift store, there isn’t exactly replica inventory lying around.
It’s an intense battle, my friends.
Also: one cannot build one’s hopes. The size might be off and then you’re just setting yourself up for failure.
So, I casually meandered towards the shoes. I took stock of their attributes.
All-leather, not bad. Ridiculously cute detailing, hmmm. Peep-toe for vintage appeal. Mary-Jane strap.
And: the wedge heel.
Until this point, I had never owned a wedge.
My mother, however, once had a favorite pair of shoes that were wedge heels. I know this because whenever she spots a pair of wedge heels it conjures up the memory for her.
“Oh wow,” she says, “I used to have a pair of wedgies. They were my favorites.”
So, here’s the scene: I hadn’t exactly planned on buying new shoes. I hadn’t exactly budgeted for new shoes. But, here were REALLY CUTE shoes.
Outcome: I bought them.
(Come on, man, they were second-hand!)
You only live once.
Buy the shoes.