Wedding Blog

Part 1
Part 2

After four months of hard-core searching for the perfect wedding shoe (and three more months of half-a$$ed searching before that), I found them.

Actually, a girl from my book club found them. She sent me a link to these shoes one day via Facebook, and since then, has, and will forever, hold a special place in my heart… not to mention, a famous moniker: Samantha, Patron Saint of the Heavenly Shoes (bless her soul!). It just goes to show that when you’re in dire straits, DO reach out to EVERYONE you know… you just never know who among your friends and acquaintances will find the shoe (or venue, or dress, or paper, or candles, or…) that you’re looking for.

And when I saw them, these spectacularly magnificent, exceedingly ravishing shoes, I promptly swooned.

And then I gasped three times in rapid succession.

The first gasp was for their GORGEOUSNESS - they were oh-so-perfect in every way: the right color, the right height, the right comfort-level, the right OOMF.

Then I gasped again because of the price… ouch!! I had never, ever dreamed of spending so much on a pair of shoes! And I probably would have sighed and closed the window at this point, if it weren’t for the fact I had just spent 7 fruitless months searching.

So I took a chance and gingerly clicked on the Choose Your Size drop-down list… and that’s when I gasped again:

My size was sold out!

I had the presence of mind to do some searches and poll some of the very trendy, fashionable and footwear-savvy people whose wedding blogs I admired very much, and learned that when it came to this kind of shoe, it was actually a good idea to order up half a size.

So I did.

And they came.

And I swooned/gasped/hyperventilated s’more.

Then I spent the next day wracked with guilt over spending so much money on a pair of shoes.

So then I sort of got over the guilt of how much these shoes cost and tried to just enjoy them. Then I went to pull off the stickers on the soles and saw this:

Oh. My. GAWD. The shoes were defective! But then I started thinking, maybe this is a blessing in disguise? After all, the mark in the sole, although it was an iconic sole and all, didn’t mean I couldn’t wear them. Turns out the very kind customer service guy at Net-A-Porter, from whence came the magical shoe, was extremely understanding and, since I had received the very last pair of size 37.5’s in the WORLD (yes, they even called the designer to double-check they didn’t have some left high-up on a dusty shelf) offered to do as much as he could to make up for it, which ended up being a 20% refund.

So I got my shoes, and I got a break on them too.

And I danced around our apartment in delight.

Did/do you do a daily dance in your wedding shoes too?