12 December 2003
Etienne Aigner
My first pair of “grown up shoes”.
I remember seeing them in the store.
They were perfect – the softest black brushed leather kitten heels, size 7.0.
I still have them and even wear them on occasion.
After all, kitten heels are always in fashion, regardless of what some may say.
They are low, so almost everyone can wear them.
Sadly, I wear a 7.5 now.
But I cannot part with those shoes.
It was better getting those shoes than many of the other thing that you get to do as a female coming to age.
I remember my Father flipping out about them.
He was upset at first place because I had gotten a pair of heels.
(It was not as bad as when my Aunt Susan got my ear pierce at the age of 6 though, that was a really bad seen – I thought my father was going to cry over them – and I was so excited to show him what a grown up I was becoming).
And then he flipped out even more when he found out that my mother had encouraged me to get them, especially when he saw the price.
(Sadly, if he saw the price of some of the other shoes that I have now, he would probably have a heart attack).
So my mother is the cause of my shoe obsession.
So what brings this up this morning you may ask?
I found the Etienne Aigner shoes in their box this morning while I was getting ready for work. I was looking for my high-heeled Mary Janes. I had to stop for a few minutes and just look at them and get out the special wire brush for them. I cleaned them and placed them on my feet. I instantly remembered how I felt when my mother had told me that I could try them on all of those years ago. I remember walking up to the sales lady and asking to see them. She brought them out a short time later and I put my little peds on, and then the shoes. They just slipped on my feet. My mother looked at the sales lady and they smiled at one another. My mother said the most wonderful words “We’ll take them!” They are not the type of shoes that even I (shocking as it is to all) would wear to the lab. It is not the cost of the shoes; it is the fact that they are so precious to me. (And if anyone was is wondering, they were $65.00 back in 1990. I know this, as the receipt was still in the box – something my mother always does with shoes). In many ways they were the real first outward sign to the world that I was taking control of growing up. Our bodies mature on their own, we have no real control over that – things like your first bra and what not, are not really done on your own personal schedule. So this morning, I could not help but to get up and walk to the kitchen to get myself another cup of coffee. I just sat at my dinning room table thinking of all the places that those shoes have taken me. Eventually I had to get up and finish getting ready for work. But I am very happy that I got time with my first pair of “grown up shoes”.
I remember seeing them in the store.
They were perfect – the softest black brushed leather kitten heels, size 7.0.
I still have them and even wear them on occasion.
After all, kitten heels are always in fashion, regardless of what some may say.
They are low, so almost everyone can wear them.
Sadly, I wear a 7.5 now.
But I cannot part with those shoes.
It was better getting those shoes than many of the other thing that you get to do as a female coming to age.
I remember my Father flipping out about them.
He was upset at first place because I had gotten a pair of heels.
(It was not as bad as when my Aunt Susan got my ear pierce at the age of 6 though, that was a really bad seen – I thought my father was going to cry over them – and I was so excited to show him what a grown up I was becoming).
And then he flipped out even more when he found out that my mother had encouraged me to get them, especially when he saw the price.
(Sadly, if he saw the price of some of the other shoes that I have now, he would probably have a heart attack).
So my mother is the cause of my shoe obsession.
So what brings this up this morning you may ask?
I found the Etienne Aigner shoes in their box this morning while I was getting ready for work. I was looking for my high-heeled Mary Janes. I had to stop for a few minutes and just look at them and get out the special wire brush for them. I cleaned them and placed them on my feet. I instantly remembered how I felt when my mother had told me that I could try them on all of those years ago. I remember walking up to the sales lady and asking to see them. She brought them out a short time later and I put my little peds on, and then the shoes. They just slipped on my feet. My mother looked at the sales lady and they smiled at one another. My mother said the most wonderful words “We’ll take them!” They are not the type of shoes that even I (shocking as it is to all) would wear to the lab. It is not the cost of the shoes; it is the fact that they are so precious to me. (And if anyone was is wondering, they were $65.00 back in 1990. I know this, as the receipt was still in the box – something my mother always does with shoes). In many ways they were the real first outward sign to the world that I was taking control of growing up. Our bodies mature on their own, we have no real control over that – things like your first bra and what not, are not really done on your own personal schedule. So this morning, I could not help but to get up and walk to the kitchen to get myself another cup of coffee. I just sat at my dinning room table thinking of all the places that those shoes have taken me. Eventually I had to get up and finish getting ready for work. But I am very happy that I got time with my first pair of “grown up shoes”.
