Shoes Glorious Shoes

I've been such a good girl. I mean, I have really gone above and beyond what I thought were my capabilities. You see, I have this addiction. I love shoes. I have no idea where the addiction started, but it has been, at times in the last few years, a bit overpowering.

I do partially blame Carrie Bradshaw for sparking in me the love of frivolous, higher-than-high shoes that make walking painful and sometimes dangerous. But I've never been a follower, so it isn't entirely the fault of those SATC wardrobe people.

I mean, look at those black peep toes Carrie is wearing. Manolo Blahnik, of course.

Anyway, back to me being good. When I moved in with Beau, the closet space was completely unacceptable, so I took over an empty bedroom and made it my closet. Beau is not 100% happy with that turn of events, but he deals with it in his own (generally) quiet manner. The one thing he is NOT quiet about is his disgust at the number of shoes in my closet. Apparently he feels that I have far too many. And I probably do. Obviously that is an impossibility. A lady can never have too many shoes. (And in my defense, I have gotten rid of at least 10 pairs of shoes since moving in.)

Nevertheless, I vowed to lay off of my shoe buying habit. Since moving in with Beau I have purchased 2 pairs of rubber flip-flops from Old Navy for $2.50 each (Rubber is not a legitimate material for shoes, so I don't think that purchase even counts.) I also purchased a pair of silver Guess platform sandals for Angela's wedding. On sale. That's it. In six months. Amazing. (And so out of character.)

What is even more amazing is that I haven't even felt withdrawals. No shakes. No major shoe envy. I haven't creeped anyone out drooling over their shoes. And I've not even wanted to go shoe shopping.

Well, until Saturday. One of the wedding guests had the cutest pair of platform sandals (nude, t-strap, huge flower, Nine West) and I can't stop thinking about them. I'm not even exaggerating. Today I sat in a workshop on teaching and thought about shoes all day long. Not how to better instruct my students, but how to get my toes in those amazing shoes. I even thought about breaking into this poor girl's house to steal them from her closet. Which, as we all know, is totally unacceptable.

I got home and took action. Google to the rescue. Google, though, let me down. I couldn't find them. Anywhere.

I feel a little lost.

And a lot sad.

And I think that  my cold-turkey abstinence might not be as effective as I thought. I have the urge to race to the mall. Or drive to the Nine West outlet that is an hour away. Or both. I want those shoes.  I need them.

No matter how noble my attempt, I don't think I'll ever be able to squelch my love of and need for shoes. As for Beau's disapproval, well, I suppose there are worse things I could do. Maybe I can just be a social shoe buyer. You know, like non-smokers who only smoke when they drink. Maybe I can just shoe shop with girlfriends (who will presumably cut me off when I want four pairs of must-have-oh-so-cute-I-certainly-can't-wear-without-the-perfect-outfit-must-buy-them-now-ooooh-they-are-in brown-too shoes). Not that that happens ever often.

So, if anyone is out and sees my shoes, let me know where they are. And if you see any others that I can't live without, just let me know. My dry spell can't last forever and it might be time to break it...

Anyone out there feel my pain?