A couple of weeks ago, a friend and I went on a shopping mission. I call it that because it wasn’t a random “Let’s go see what’s in the shops” day, but more of a “I need new work shoes” kind of day.
For my friend, at least. I just went along to drool over whatever gorgeous footwear we might come across. I had already bought far too many pairs at a warehouse sale recently (eight, to be precise, and all in one go). So, no, I wasn’t going to buy. I was going for company. Or so I thought until I spotted The Shoes.
The Shoes came in my favourite style: peep-toes with killer heels, silver with a lot of bling.
“They are so you,” my friend told me.
But I had just bought a pair of black peep-toes with killer heels on that aforementioned eight-pair shopping spree, so I decided to be sensible and walked out of the shop without buying them.
I kept telling myself over and over again that no matter how lovely they were, they were just not practical. Silver with so much bling? How much wear would I get out of them?
So, I patted myself on the back for having had the willpower to resist The Shoes.
But the shoes haunted me for days. I couldn’t stop thinking about them and I kicked myself for not having bought them. I couldn’t even go back and buy them because it was the only pair in my size and, with it being sale season, there was no way those lovelies hadn’t been snapped up by some other shoes--obsessed woman.
So I consoled myself with affirmations of their impracticality.
Then, this weekend, I went to the mall again with another friend to watch a movie. With an hour to kill before the movie started, we went window shopping. Five minutes before the movie, we walked by the store where I had seen The Shoes a few weeks back.
During the movie, which featured a futuristic wardrobe, I couldn’t stop thinking about The Shoes, which would have gone perfectly with this outfit, and this one, and this one – argh.
I couldn’t take it anymore. After the film, I made my way straight to the shop. I told myself that if I was destined to have The Shoes, they would be waiting for me.
Once there, I scanned the entire women’s section. Rows and rows of footwear but no sign of The Shoes. My heart broke a little. It wasn’t meant to be. Oh, well, there would be other shoes.
Just as I turned to leave, something flashed at me from the men’s section.
There, among all the beige, brown and black, was a pair of twinkling silver heels that didn’t quite belong: The Shoes! Don’t ask me what they were doing in the men’s section.
It was a stroke of luck that the last pair in my size was still around. It was just meant to be. The Shoes were not an indulgence – they were my destiny.
The writer is an honest-to-goodness desi living in Dubai
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