Once I had decided on a purple shoe, the search started in earnest.
I searched high and low. I trudged from store to store, all over Vancouver, Montreal and Seattle. Nada. Well, that’s not entirely true. I did find one pair. ONE PAIR of pretty purple peep-toe pumps”“the appropriateness of which was directly in proportion to how desperate I was starting to feel (i.e. not so much, but starting to get VERY):
(Pardon the picture, it happened to be a fishnet sort of day. Shoes by Ferragamo; closest I’ve found online are these.)
They felt like buttah. But something wasn’t right. They seemed too”¦ winter-ish.
Since there was nothing to be had in any of the nearby stores, I entered the biggest shopping mall of all: The Internet. And oh, you’d think a cornucopia of wondrous delights was spilled before my drooling self, wouldn’t you?
But as I looked at all these lovelies, none of them pulled at my heart strings.
I love pumps and peep-toes and suede, but I can’t shake the feeling these would look out-of-place on a steamy hot day in the Caribbean.
Three-and-a-half (or more!?) inch heels are dang sexy, I know I wouldn’t survive even one round of polkas tottering on these (oh yes, you better believe there will be polkas at this Polish gal’s wedding, even if they have to be played by a steel drum band). Not to mention the fact that it would be a Tom-Katie situation. Too bad, because there were a LOT of beauties:
Others were the wrong shade of purple, the wrong style or just plain”¦ wrong (but might be perfect for you, so here they are).
I only came remotely close to buying one pair”¦ good color, good height, looked comfy”¦ but I didn’t:
Only a low, strappy, richly violet shoe would do””but only one will be worthy of spending the most important and magical day of my life with me.
And then I found them…
(to be continued)