GUCCI Brixton loafers
You know…I am keenly aware of my faults and failings when it comes to shopping. There are some times when I abandon reason and responsibility, throw my best-laid plans by the wayside, and heed a call.
I was reading a post of Lin’s last week featuring a passage from The Thoughtful Dresser by Linda Grant discussing the emotional nature of fashion. Comparing dress to dessert, she writes, “we do not choose to eat, say, a chocolate eclair, with the aim of fulfilling our daily calorie quota. We fall victim to a cake because it is delicious.”
Indeed we do. Eclairs. Shoes. Delicious.
Saturday, I stopped by the Glossier pop-up in Pioneer Square (if anyone was wondering, yes…I am a legitimate fan of the brand). After playing in makeup, I wandered into Nordstrom to pass time and immediately fell for these loafers. Hard. I cared not for the current state of Gucci’s overexposure in the marketplace. I cared not for the furrier, printed, embellished, glittery, and colorful iterations that surrounded them. I saw a simple, black, beautiful, and beautifully made pair of shoes, and, after a couple hours’ consideration, I took them home with me.
This is starting to sound like one of those songs where a guy falls in love with a stripper and vows to take her away from it all so she can live a better life. It sort of feels like that, too, but I’m fine with it. The heart wants what it wants.
Also, it is not lost on me that shopping to pass time is a TERRIBLE idea.
It is difficult to write about the emotions that accompany splurging on something, especially when it punctuates a depressive episode (another story for another time). Some things just feel familiar and familial. It isn’t the thrill that comes from chasing the new; I think we are aware enough to know that these sorts of highs never last. I mean the feelings that surface when I pick up something and really connect with it. It’s similar to when I meet certain people and *know* that we’re going to be friends even when I don’t know much about them. From what I’ve gleaned, Grant takes on this topic well in her book. I’ve currently got it on hold at the library and am keen to read it.
All that said and emotions considered, I won’t wax too poetic over a pair of shoes. They aren’t solving any of my problems and won’t bring any lasting happiness. I’m sure seeing them so often online played no small factor in my sudden infatuation, and part of me wonders if I’ve fallen victim to trendiness (maybe I have, but Nordstrom’s liberal return policy makes that mistake easy to correct). For now, I think that these are a solid choice – black, flat, comfortable, and easy to wear. At best, I’ll wear them for the next several years. At worst, they go back to the store and I put my money to different, possibly better use.
Either way, I’m left to suss out why I did a complete 180 degree turn from being content with my Jenni Kayne flats, which I love, to wanting these enough to buy them. Pretty sure it has to do with the depressive episode I alluded to earlier. Maybe I should tell that story sooner rather than later.