Shoe Party for One
It’s Friday night and the plans you’ve been looking forward to all week have been cancelled. Sally begged off because an old lover is in town for just one night and well, he was a good, old lover.
But don’t worry, there is still Alexis who can always be counted on to turn a dull evening into one to be remembered, only she forgot about the plans and has already left town on business.
It really doesn’t matter anyhow because somewhere between this morning and evening you’ve developed a zit on your right cheek which warrants its own zip code. So, safe to say, this Friday night, you’re staying in. But wait, have I got news for you. You’re going to have a party, yep, just you and some very dependable friends. How do I know this? Well, by personal experience of course.
Every couple of months, okay, maybe it’s more like weeks, (I don’t want to paint a picture of a completely hopeless dame) I put on my sexist dress, pour myself a glass of wine, turn on some Broadway tunes, and raid my closet. Yep, I pull down all sixty-four boxes of my darling little shoe friends and the party is on! Now, not all of them get to come out because they’re a bit stuffy, out of style or just plain worn down, which means on the next day I have nothing to do, maybe I’ll clean out my closet. Anyhow, I’ve digressed.
So welcome to my party. First, let me introduce you to my brown suede peep-toe pumps with patent leather piping along the straps. So delicious, wearing these, I become a writer of the forties era in my London flat, much too serious to wear flirty high heels; I prefer the thick sturdy heel. I feel very smart in these shoes and so Virginia Woolf but flashier.
Next, meet my funky Betsy Johnson’s red sassy D’orsays lined in hot pink stitches with a bow on top. They make me want to dance, flirt and be absolutely fabulous. I feel like a flamingo dancer minus the rose between my teeth.
The next guest invited to the all night soiree is my grey patent leather Prada loafers which I could not afford and bought them anyhow. Now these shoes have mysterious powers. Every time I take these girls out I become so assertive, very much in control. I feel a bit like Katharine Hepburn in Woman of the Year. Yes, I think these may be my favorite pair, at least they’ve have been invited out more than the rest.
I have an array of sexy little numbers that I can’t possibly walk in but damn they look good on especially as my muscular calves bulge to keep me upright. There are a few pair that I look at and wonder what was I thinking but I do not have the heart to banish them just because they’re a bit odd. There are also the practical, they stay in their boxes and then, there is the one pair that no matter how old they or I get, they will forever hold a special place in my closet. A pair of blood-red patent leather sling backs that enter a room two steps ahead of me. They are gorgeous!
After trying on my friends, I put them back into their bags and boxes and on the shelf where they will remain until they get invited for a private outing or we all get together on another “what to do Friday night.” Every now and then, I introduce a new pair of friends into the group. Everyone is generous as they move over to make room.
It’s a good group, no dramas, no break-up stories and no cancellations. I can’t think of a better way to spend a night. Just me and my shoe buddies.