It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's.... SHOEper Woman!

     "Oh, sweet baby Jesus!"  My heart started racing. Sighs of contentment escaped my lips. My eyes sifted through the racks, darting quickly.  My knees hit the linoleum floor, which reflected the fluorescent lights from above.  My hot pink and fuchsia tie-dyed pants justifiably acquired a layer of dust, as my knees produced a mosaic of fluid motion against the floor.  In a deserted, haphazardous section of my neighbourhood Real Canadian Superstore was a sign, posted atop a jumble of shoes.  A sign from heaven, surely, as it read: 'All Pairs of Shoes: $2.97'.

     I didn't know where to start. Like an untamed, ferocious tiger, I lunged towards some Mary Janes, black patent with white lining. I moved onto a scandalous, scintillating pair of stilettos; its jagged heel sharp enough to use as a weapon against aggravated babies, should that event occur.  My limbs then accumulated a pair of ballet flats, mint green in color, but smelling anything but fresh. Nevertheless, into my arms they went.

     Beads of perspiration had formed upon my forehead by this point.  As I raised my unusually shaky hand to wipe the sweat off, one stiletto was released from my grasp.  Having been gifted with a superb intellect, I was able to come up with a solution to my problem of rolling footwear. I hobbled my way over to a stack of red baskets, dumped my phalanx of shoes into it, and resumed my frantic shopping.

     As the basket reached its maximum fill line, I began to survey my amassed collection of shoes. In my euphoric disarray, I had accidentally added a few sandals to my loot that were intended for toddlers. Just as I was replacing them with more practical yellow jelly wedges, I heard a cry from behind me.

    "Urooba!" My mother hissed, "No more shoes I am buying for you, no no!"

      "But Ma!" I exclaimed, "They're only $2.97!" That was a sly move, knowing that my mother was inept at ignoring bargains. A love affair with being cheap (not frugal) was a condition I had most definitely gotten from her.

       As she, too, began sifting and searching through the cornucopia of fabric for the feet, I smiled to myself.  Many people acquire a lot of traits from their parents, what with living in such close proximity to them.  Yet, I loved that my mother and I were able to form a deep bond, from something normally seen as superficial.  That meant our relationship had the potential to evolve into something even more great, and that, in itself, was worth smiling about.  And the fact that I was now hitting a shoe collection of about 50. Eat your heart out, Jackie Murchison**.

**non-fictional, self-proclaimed SHOEper woman. Hehehe. [ ifyadidn'tknow, you can ignore the last sentence, then].

                                                                                 ON ME:

• My Floral 80's Jacket That NOONE Likes (I know, like oh ehm gee): thrifted via Value Village for a cool $3!
• green dress: Old Navy, $5
• wetlook leggings: Urban Outfitters, $5
• green jelly gladiator sandals: Wetseal, $5
• red beaded necklace: thrifted via value village, $1
• green purse: Zellers, ~$3
• pink cheetah print scarf: Wetseal, $1

SNEAK PEEK:

Look at these totally radical blue heels I thrifted a while back ($2.50!), but have not worn yet: (I'll be wearing 'em soon with this amazing vintage dress I scored this week---my vintage shopping experience, MY WONDERFUL vintage shopping experience, will be documented in the next post!)

 

Oh, I almost forgot! In case you haven't noticed, I 've got a new header--YAY! I rejoiced! The totally awesome Mimi from http://soyconfessions.blogspot.com/ made me it--go see her blog; it's great!

{Turns out, she lives the next city over from me, lol. So cool.}