Don’t Say a Prayer for Me Now…
Well, it’s the morning after, and there’s something I need to get off my chest.
I had a one-night stand… with “Farinelli,” the hottest, sexiest, most exotic… pair of Manolo Blahnik peridot green alligator open-toe pumps. Oh yes, all three thousand and fifty dollars worth (yeah, three grand and they couldn’t spot me the fifty bucks!). I’m ashamed. I feel… dirty. But for one night, I could call it paradise.
Rewind to yesterday: I saw it standing by the wall, corner of the Barneys. I was just killing some time, waiting out an afternoon thunderstorm. Boredom shopping: dangerous, very dangerous! And the lightning was flashing on the window sill. All alone ain’t much fun, but I wasn’t looking for a thrill. I just knew just what it takes and where to go. And that’s how I found myself stealing a glance at the most breathtakingly beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I stared, then looked away. I circled it, walked away, then came back. It was like the forbidden dance — the lambada. I finally got the nerve to approach. I didn’t know the name — I wouldn’t until later — but I knew I had to have it. Before I could think twice, I impulsively handed over some plastic and walked out the door, no longer alone and lonely.
I jumped in a taxi and hurried home. The minute the door shut behind me, I tore off the shoe box lid, unwrapped the tissue paper and caressed the left, then the right shoe. I slipped them on and danced circles around my living room (carpeted, for my comfort).
I fell asleep spooning them. When dawn broke, and I looked down at them, I was overcome with remorse. Fear was in my soul. It was just… so wrong. A forbidden love that I would never even be able to take out in public, so afraid I would be of exposing them to the elements. A tear welling up in my eye, I packed them up, put them in their box, and took them back where they belonged: on a pedestal, at Barneys, for all to admire but not touch.
Now, all I have is a beautiful, golden memory, one that won’t soon fade. My lesson, as Simon LeBon might say: You don’t have to dream it all, just live a day…
A moment of silence, please, for my fleeting love.
But — save a prayer.
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July 28th, 2005 11:58
I did the exact same thing with a pair of Christian Louboutins. It was a glorious day…maybe I should have kept them after all?
July 28th, 2005 17:41
It’s like the one that got away–sigh. I think it’s another subset of buyer’s remorse: returner’s remorse. Let’s see… what’s more painful? That nagging ache for something you had so fleetingly? Or the heart attack after seeing the credit card bill?!