Gold

D's parents gave me a gift card for a particular outlet store I like, where I have found some very good stuff at a considerable discount. But, as happens with places like this, I had not found anything despite several trips (which I enjoyed) since their gift. I kept the idea in my head that I would wait until I found something irresistible - that I would get anyway, and then use the certificate. Especially since I had no idea how much it was. And I had to be able to show them what I purchased, so - nothing embarrassing to any of us. Not hard, really, but no nightwear - which is not a common feature of this place anyway.

Today, I found these shoes, already at a discount, and with their card, quite a bargain. They are a sturdy brand that makes my hiking/walking/every single day shoes, but, well, they are purple and they gleam gold. I have not had shoes that could be described as "pretty" for many, many years. Not really a problem for me, since I see footwear as utilitarian first and last. Ever since I was very small, and had to have special shoes fitted for me. The shiny patent leather shoes for my Communion, bought big for a growth spurt that never came, leaving me with nasty blisters, reinforced this practical view of shoes.

I've always been by nature rather practical, wary of pain, distrustful of fashion and downright hostile to frivolous decorative clothes that detracted from their protective functions. I want coats to be warm, shoes to be comfortable, and everything else to cover me decently and not fall apart. Rarely have I put fashion first, although I do prefer flattering clothing, and I do know the value of good fabric and attractive colors. My mother worked as a seamstress, as did her mother, and she taught me how to avoid shoddy work. But I often did not have the income to get quality, and had to go for used, thrift stores and hand-me-downs. Which was fine. Really, not that big a deal.

But in Boston, at Filene's Basement, I found out the value of designer, label, clothes, at a discount. If one goes for classic, last year's fashions makes no difference. Chosen carefully, I found Kalvin Cline* worked very nicely for me. I'd never have paid full price for it, but it really did make a difference, and it was nice to know I did have taste, just - not the money to indulge it.

So, I trained my eye.

Today, these shoes gave me quite the come hither stare. They fit. I like them. They are mine. By far the prettiest, coolest shoes I have ever had. Feeling quite pleasantly smug about this. I would not have looked twice had they not been the same brand as my working shoes, and were therefore going to hold up to serious walking.

Moby has always seemed to enjoy our touch. This pleases us immensely. I trimmed his claws today, never a favorite activity for him, but he tolerates the front, and I do the back ones - one at a time, usually. I actually did the whole set, skipping the already blunt claws, all in one go. Just a bit of grumbling at the end. He really does not like me messing with the back paws. I can only assume I've gotten better at it, so it irritates him less.

Well, that's just fine then.

*Intentional misspelling, keep the spam away.