A slave to fashion...

I resisted the temptation of blogging for awhile -- it's yet another time sink. But I'm getting terrible at keeping up with personal email, and find myself summing up weeks, if not months of activity in notes to friends as "never a dull moment." Hence the title of my blog. So, I'll try this for a bit, maybe tell a few folks, then we'll see whether I can live up to it.

A slave to fashion, huh? What, pray tell, happened now?

Getting out of my car yesterday, I caught a patch of ice and slid an inch or two. No harm, no foul. Until I walked a few yards and heard the unmistakable crack of the heel of my boot.

Normally I'd be royally pissed. However, I'm secretly filled with glee that they got this far.

Every year, I buy a new pair of black, high-heeled boots that I wear nearly daily during the fall and winter until it's warm enough again to go sock-less and wear fun spring/summer shoes. I'm a slave to fashion.

Last year, I bought this pair of boots somewhat late into the season, refusing to pay the higher prices earlier on. I stopped in a shoe warehouse (DSW? Shoe Factory? can't remember), thought the price was right and snagged them. Just a week later, I was walking out of my office and CRACK...the heel broke. That time I was pissed! I can't stand spending money on the same thing twice, so I found a cobbler (Tom was and still is thoroughly amused that they still exist!) at South Station who thought he could fix them for $25 -- a heck of a lot cheaper than buying a new pair. But he warned that he couldn't guarantee how long they'd last. I think a year is pretty darn good!

So I spent my day at work yesterday walking gingerly as the heel proceeded to bend further and further, with no alternative shoes stashed anywhere. Needless to say, when I did throw them out last night, it was with some satisfaction that I squeezed a year out of them!