That was until last Saturday, when I had a boring errand to run downtown. So boring that I took the opportunity to go from one shoe shop to another, in the pursuit of what I thought - and still am sure - that I miss: the one pair of derby boots that has to match the new three-piece suit I fell for a couple of weeks ago.
Do I not already own shoes that would fit? But of course. Portuguese-made Richelieu in a middle-brown tone - and their twin sisters in black - an expensive quality which every dime I never regretted, for twelve years after they still compete with any groom's outfit.
Only have I decided that this year - Yes! This Fucking-2022-Hell-of-a-Year - I'd go ahead of any and all stupid new year's resolutions. Starting with "Enjoy being yourself!".
[the catholic Roman in me yells "selfish sin!"]
[the educated brain answers "Fuck-off, you dust-stinking cassock-wearer"]
Oops, I think I digressed.
Anyway, I came across that lovely shoe shop that has recently moved from a quite chic - yet not so busy - street to the pedestrian rue Saint-Laud here.
Not the usual shoe shop, more of an entry to selected shoemakers who craft quality shoes for men who value style and duration over mundane season-to-season fashion.
Alright, being attended to by Ronan might have had a wee bit of an influence...
(here on the left - sigh...)
Still, being listened to and advised by an obvious pro who carefully listens to each and every wish about what my shoes should be and should feel while not being afraid to correct me on the way, all of it without a speck of snobbery? What can I say, besides that I enjoyed being myself. And lighting up the credit card for these shoes to come didn't raise a glimpse of a remorse.
Two weeks to wait before I get back there to try them on. Waiting is part of the fun, they say.
And maybe this year I'll be showing to a family dinner after all.
Ordinary vanity. If there is any.
4 comments:
"Waiting is part of the fun". I'd say that Waiting is can be fun itself.
Oh, I don't blame you. Not one single bit. Once in a while we **should** spoil ourselves with a gift. For shoes...I'd buy Capezio, it's what we dancers wore. They were so comfy, I had a pair (in grey) that I wore daily.
Chez Monsieur, a cote du bar du centre..?
En face, pour être précis.
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