The Scorned -part one

First, the whole pile of banished footwear




I got these in the early years on my marriage when the craving for the perfect brown boot overtook my soul. These tided me over but never really satisfied the craving, besides my feet slide around in them a bit, I hate that. So good bye brown boots, I hope you make someone very happy in your own, out-dated trendy way.



I was wearing these shoes when the Mr. told me he loved me for the very first time. How, you may ask can I dispose of such a sentimentally important pair of shoes? I'll tell you, I haven't worn them in round about 5 years, and I am working on my heartlessness so, really, this is just a step toward total emotional detachment.
On my way though, I'll take a break to recall that my outfit that day really was fab. Allow me to describe it for you. I'll start at the bottom and work up. The above shoes (sorry the photo is even worse than normal), black fishnet stockings, a straight black skirt that hit just below the knee with a side split, nothing to splitty though, just high enough to be able to walk, and a sparkly ballerina-style wrap sweater that belonged to my room mate with a bright pink shirt under it. I topped it all off with matching pink streaks in my platinum blonde tresses, pink lipstick, and a healthy dose of black eyeliner.
Now, I'm just guessing on this, but I was likely wearing a corresponding shade of pink panties. I can't imagine being contented with an otherwise flawlessly matched ensemble for such a special occasion if the match-ittude did not extend to the undergarments.




It started in 9th grade sometime, the desire for Doc Martin sandals. It was a strong one too. I was a senior in high school before I scrapped together the $130.00 for them. I kept trying to fill the void with other, less-expensive foot wear (though never the pay-less copy cat version of the doc's. I hated those with super-human vigor) then finally, my tax refund came and my wish was fulfilled.
When I got them out of the box on Saturday I was amazed at the sheer volume of those shoes. Seriously, they are gigantic. I thought about keeping them and wearing them around the house for extra weight resistance but in the end I decided to set them free. I can always strap bricks to my feet for a similar effect if I need the exercise so badly.




The style name of these is "High School".
This was one of those situations where I spent so much time thinking about whether or not I wanted them that they were gone. I just about gave up hope and then miraculously found a pair on a clearance rack. They are too big, but as you can see from the photo, they still got plenty of use. I wore and wore those shoes. If they were in better shape you can bet your bippy I would keep them and wear them for another 10 years.

And so concludes this segment of "The Scorned" tales of shoes once loved, now discarded.