Who needs brown flats?

On my aforementioned trip to Minneapolis, Minneapolis Friend, Leah Lar and I went shoe shopping. Because women like shoes. That may be a sweeping generalization, so let me rephrase and say we three women like shoes. And most women that I know. Also purses. I’m finding that I’m suddenly coveting all of these expensive bags and purses. What’s up with that? Not two years ago, I was talking to Leah Lar about how we both completely understand the appeal of expensive clothes and shoes, because we can see the difference in quality, but that neither of us could understand the appeal of an expensive purse. Or any purse, really. We were just not that into purses. Now? I love them. And this is happening to my other friends as well. They say that the are suddenly quite interested in fancy purse stores. I don’t know if it’s a side effect of having to carry a purse now when I used to get by with just pockets, or what, but it’s actually kind of inconvenient to have this accessory long for. Nevertheless, I still don’t understand why anyone would be willing to spend thousands of dollars on one purse.

But I digress. So we were shoe shopping, but I was really just hanging out, because I didn’t need shoes. I would only allow myself to buy brown dress flats, because I had no nice brown shoes at all. And only if I happened to find them. But that’s it; I had everything else I needed by way of shoes. Minneapolis Friend and Leah Lar, on the other hand, were all about buying themselves extraneous, unnecessary pairs of shoes. Minneapolis Friend found a pair of Pumas in Urban Outfitters, and fell in love with them. But they were overpriced, as are many things in Urban Outfitters, so I told her she should ask the people to hold them for her, and she could think about. “Really,” I said, “you should be practical. You don’t need these, and they’re so overpriced. If you still want them tomorrow, we can come back.” Minneapolis Friend agreed, and she put them on hold.

In the next store, Leah Lar found an adorable pair of black Mary Janes, but they didn’t have her size. She desperately wanted them, but was torn because they were pretty expensive for shoes that were too big. Once again, I stepped in as the voice of reason. “Just ask them to hold them for you and you can think about it. Because they don’t fit, so you might never wear them, and it’s a lot of money for shoes you’ll never wear. If you still want them tomorrow, we’ll come back,” I told her. Somewhat reluctantly, Leah Lar did as I suggested.

We finished up our excursion with a trip to DSW. I scanned all of the aisles for my brown dress flats, but didn’t find anything. Remember, I was willing to spend money only on the perfect brown dress flats that met my exact shoe requirements. I was the Voice of Reason, after all. I couldn’t buy any old shoes that simply caught my fancy. So I went over to help Minneapolis Friend decide on a pair of boots to replace her worn-out ones. Five minutes before the store closed, I tried on a pair of red ankle boots on a whim. Minneapolis Friend and Leah Lar gasped in awe. “Those boots look like they were made for your foot,” Leah Lar said.

Minneapolis Friend agreed. “They really are fabulous,” she said reverently.

“Yes. They are,” I said. And then I bought them.