I was in law school when I saw my first pair of Christian Louboutin shoes. Loo-Boo-Tahn. Say it with me. Slowly. Looooo-Booooo-Taaaaaaahn.
Yah, I know. Law school plus Louboutin rarely show up in a sentence together. But Lorraine was different. Besides being a lovely person, she was engaged to an NFL player. Few people knew. I didn’t care.
Anyway, as a study break she asked me if I wanted to go shopping with her. Sure! And so we headed to 50 Penn Place in Oklahoma City. She wanted to buy shoes. That’s fine. I’m always up for buying, er looking, at spendy shoes.
And there they were. In all their red-soled splendor. It’s as if angels were playing harps when we walked in to the store. Christian Louboutin shoes. They were gorgeous even though they were very classic. And I knew when I first saw them that one day I wanted a pair to call my very own.
Then I saw the price tag. They were over $1,000! I don’t think one uses financial aid to secure a pair of thousand dollar shoes. Maybe $50, but certainly my tax dollars provided to me in the form of grants were not to be used for fancy, schmancy shoes. Definitely not these shoes!
And here I am, 17 years later still talking about how someday I’m going to buy me a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes. So what’s the big deal? I’ve had jobs that have paid very well. And I’ve bought nice things. But these shoes. I just can’t bring myself to buy them.
I can’t justify paying that much money for something I’ll rarely wear. It’s not like a wedding dress which costs a lot but is intended for a single wear. It’s a pair of shoes for goodness sake. But they’re so pretty. And the fit? Like I’m wearing clouds. Super cute, red-soled clouds.
My closet is home to many really nice pairs of shoes, so it’s not like I’m as cheap as I make myself out to be. I used to reward myself. Used to. I’ve bought name brand clothing. (Before I came to know the virtues of buying a 20 pound bag of pinto beans at the same place I get my shirts. Don’t judge me!)
I fully understand how a pair of shoes can transform a person. Not just with the confidence it imparts knowing that you’re well dressed but also the comfort. The two pairs of fabulous pumps I have, one is Coach and the other is Anne Klein Couture. The Coach shoes I got when I graduated from law school. They’re basic black and have a 2.5″ Cuban stacked heel. I could run a marathon in them, they are just that comfortable. The Anne Klein pumps I got when I passed the bar exam. They’re caramel color. And they’re pretty and make me feel like a grown up. But I haven’t worn either pair in well over a year. My life is more, how do we say ….. casual, now. Yes, more casual.
So why do I still keep ‘Louboutin pumps’ on my Someday List? Because they’re just absolutely gorgeous. I keep changing my mind, but I always go back to these. And these. And these, simply because they are purple! And if you noticed, the prices have come down. So, I’d actually be saving money if I just bought me a pair. Now!
But I can’t do it. I’m just too practical. I can’t justify spending the money. (And don’t say anything about my iPad, which cost almost as much as these shoes d0. Because my iPad is for work and the IRS would believe me on that one. They’d never believe me if I tried to say my Louboutin’s were a business expense. And I’m sure they wouldn’t let me take them to prison if I’m convicted for tax evasion. See how I can get in trouble for buying them!)
I go back and forth, though. Should I set some crazy goal and if I achieve it then I reward myself with a pair? Do I save a buck a day for 2 years? Maybe I convince myself that at 45 I finally deserve a pair? What is it? What is that magical notion that will allow me to believe that it’s OK to buy a pair of shoes that cost the equivalent of a car payment?