The Sin of Pride

My Dodos:



Aren't they beautiful? I've had them for weeks now and not worn them. Not worn them out, I mean, I have periodically put them on and capered around the house in them, spending a lot of time checking out my own feet in the mirror. But last night I was going out to dinner with a friend and I decided to give them their maiden voyage. I had a few reservations because it rained off & on all day yesterday and these shoes, while gorgeous, are not what you'd call sturdy. As a matter of fact, my at-home capering had pretty well convinced me that these were shoes to wear when I didn't have to do much besides stand (or sit, even better) around & look nice. The heels are very high & spindly, and there is absolutely no padding in the forefoot. It's a few very beautiful layers of leather and that is it. I've put little silicone pads in the shoes, but there's only so much that will help.

But they looked beautiful and I felt great in them and swanned about all evening knowing that I had the best shoes in any room I was in, quite possibly the best shoes in downtown Austin. That's a nice feeling.

We had dinner, walked somewhere for a couple more glasses of wine, strolled around downtown Austin a tiny bit on our way back to the parking garage where my friend's car was located. I walked carefully. I always walk carefully. This is the great downside, for me anyway, of the fabulous shoes. Sidewalks are treacherous. Cobblestones are deadly. A crack in the asphalt can mean ruin. And I am not the sort of person who can meet a Serious Shoe Tragedy with A) humor and equanimity or B) readily available replacement funds.

And I was almost home free -- I mean I was literally 20 feet from the elevator that would take us to the parking deck, when I felt it happen.


Heel into a crack I didn't even see. I honestly think I felt this happen in the roots of my soul -- I knew before I even looked at the shoe that it was a disaster.

There has been no weeping and tearing of hair. But I woke up today and it was honestly the first thing I thought about. (Actually the first thing I thought was, too much wiiiiiiiine, but that's mostly just about the way my tongue had been turned into cardboard.) I'm pretty upset about it. The heel can be fixed, not as good as new, but the tear is pretty clean, not very big, and all of the leather is still there. I'm going to take the shoe to my new shoe guy and beg him with tears in my eyes to make her as pretty as she can be once again.

I'm really wishing those Smartheels thingies would have worked right now, although they weren't supposed to be used on patent anyway.

So I'm upset, but mostly I'm feeling philosophical. I'm trying to suss out just exactly what the Universe is trying to teach me through these shoes. Pride goeth before the fall? Don't get uppity? Possessions are only things and I should have nothing in my life that I am not prepared to do without? Is this a Big-Picture kinda thing that I need to know or more shoe-specific: stop buying those expensive hoof covers!

I don't know. All I know is that it's Sunday morning, I'm a little hung over, and my shoes have a big bad boo-boo. Also:



The straps left red stains across my insteps. (Which are actually a little brighter than in this photo, the flash washed them out.) The hell????


Photos: Style Spy