shoes. shoes like these. i cannot put coherently into words how empowering they are-

(yes considering the hefty price tags you'd think they'd be anything but not-)

enticing-

inviting-

but they make me happy. happy in a way that a person cannot-

not that it's better than the kind of happy that a person can make me; it's different.

in my wildest most fantastic idealizations of my amazing-and-successful-after-school-working-life, i am a career woman living in an apartment loft at patterson edge. In the fully-glass panelled living room, i have this shoe rack-

a shoe rack full of my wonders-

there are the sensible and dowdy ones for conforming times; there are sturdy and dependable ones for everyday work; there are the insane statement pieces for occasional gaudiness (though mostly for display); there are the laid-back and comfortable ones for weekends; there are the outrageous unwearable ones for collecting purposes; there are the hardcore punk-rock ones for my secret rebellious streak-

there are the shoes by those brand names that carry certain kind of status and prestige. there are those shoes that have been popularized by fashion bloggers and worn to dead. there are those shoes by designers that look like they could break ankles just by trying them on. there are the shoes that are classics and sworn by users as timeless pieces.

i know i should only buy what i should wear.

i know i should only buy shoes that i will/would actually wear.

i know i should only buy shoes that feel comfortable to walk in.

i know i should only buy shoes that will actually look good on me.

i have 765432134689087654321345678 shoes and only two pairs of feet i know.

(okay maybe not that many but more than i can wear regularly anyway-)

all this yes i know.

but i still love (all kinds of) shoes, okay.