Monday, August 10, 2009

My Shoe Dream

I have been crazy these days trying to look for some decent black 5 size shoes! In actuality, I am really size 4 and a half. I know, I have the smallest pair of feet in the world. The reason why I am looking for a 5 size shoe is that I kind of gave up looking for a size 4 and a half womanly shoes! Evertime I go inside a shoe store and came out empty handed, I end up throwing a Miss Piggy fit.


Now that that's off of my chest. I could go ahead and talk about these lovely shoes that I found at Etsy.

Aren't these shoes cute? I love these shoes because they are so Parisian looking. I just love black and white shoes. These shoes come with the dotted lines, which is so vintage looking. The curvy details both in the cut and shape of the shoe adds that feminine touch. And even though these shoes come with a thick buckle they still look womanly.

I can just imagine myself walking on the streets of Paris on day wearing this pair of shoes. How elegant and poised I would look. I would just fit in perfectly with the ladies of Paris. I would spot a cafe down the street and walk toward it, then probably stumble and fall on my tush. People would be so friendly and run towards me to pick me up from the lovely cobblestone street.

Then people would be asking me, "Mademoiselle, are you alright?"

"Merci oui," I would bashfully say.

Then an older shoemaker would approach me and say, "Don't worry Madam, I will help you."

Then this older shoemaker would invite me to his shoe shop. As I would sit with a cup of coffee while I watch the shoemaker repairing my shoes. Then a few minutes later the shoemaker would hand over my shoes.

"Madam, here are your brand new shoes."

Then as I get my shoe back I realize that the sole hasn't been repaired. Then I ask the shoemaker why he didn't repair my sole.

"Madam, the problem with your shoes was not the sole. It was the size. You see, these lovely black shoes that you saw at Etsy is not your size. They are a size 7. Madam, I had to stuff your shoes so that you would not fall again."

I would have to contain myself so that I won't throw a Miss Piggy fit. After all its Paris.

Than I would thank the shoemaker. And as I would leave the shop I would say:

"Now, sir, I have a question. Why do you keep on calling me Madam and not Mademoiselle?

"I saw your wedding ring. So I knew that you were a married woman."

I would be mesmerized.

The lesson of this story is, I can't continue stuffing my shoes and I am not a Mademoiselle!

I just want a decent black pair of shoes with a perfect fit!

Am I asking for too much?

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