(Photo via Coach)
So, here they are, the booties I have pined over for months. The boots I have checked the Coach website every single day almost waiting for them to go on super sale. The boots in the perfect shade of saddle brown that I have built outfits around in my head. The boots that I ponied up the cash to buy, even though I knew it was crazy to spend that much on boots I don't need...yup it was love, true love!
But it was unrequited love, a love that could never be. I knew it the moment I slipped the first one on my foot. The fit was fine, albeit a little roomy, but I was undaunted, these were MY boots and if I had to wear thicker socks to make it work, then so be it I thought!
I held the second boot up to my nose, breathed in its intoxicating real leather smell (think finely carved western saddle), and put it on my other foot. These were perfect I thought, but the little voice in my head screamed in that annoying way you can't ignore..."are you sure about that Kat?!"
I stood up, certain I could quell that nasty, know it all voice in my head, took a few steps and then sighed. These were not my boots, they were boots that had lured me with their shiny gold plate that said Coach on the back, the beauty of the stacked wooden heels, the supple leather that brought back childhood memories of my grandfather and our horses, and the sexy stitching that made me swoon. No, it had all been a ruse, a cruel joke that made me believe I could walk in heels that made me feel like a 6 year old wearing her mother's high heels for the first time. And even after I stopped walking like Bambi, I realized that they hurt, not a little, but a lot!
Not one to listen to reason, I wandered around my house, even invited my son and his girlfriend down to take a look...to help convince me that these were in fact my boots, and perhaps first impressions weren't always the best. They of course LOVED them too, we were all taken in by their beguiling beauty, and so I told myself this would take some time. Maybe these boots didn't love me the way I loved them, but in time, with some cushy inserts, we could learn to love one another, we were after all, meant to be together!
This morning I awoke with hope and promise, and with the balls of my feet no longer aching from the night before. I tried on my Vince Camuto boots, the ones that started my lust for height and fashion. They had been true to me, so how could these Coach boots be so different I thought. But after trying on my other boots, feeling the way they hugged every subtle nuance of my foot and ankle without pain or irritation, it became undeniable that a 1/4 inch and the angle at which a boot is made, really can make or break a relationship.
In time I will get over this disappointing break-up, heck, I will probably find a new love sometime this week as I peruse other shoe sales, and those other boots will become a distant memory. I will tell others about how they let me down, how I gave them everything, including my credit card and how I called all over the country to find them in my size only to be scorned and hurt for my trouble. It will take some time, all break ups do, but I know it's the right thing to do, the sane thing to do, and so I will move on...but oh how I will miss the thought of them, the vision I had created in my head. Goodbye sweet boots, may you find another to love, and one who will love you as much as I had hoped to! ;-)
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