My sister Jane sent me the following email the other day- an obituary for her shoes:
Dear style 07A,
A girl only experiences her first pair of Chanel flats once. I remember the first time we met. You were so pretty and gold, and you fit so perfectly. You have been loyal to me for many years and it is very difficult to say goodbye. However, given the rank odor emanating from your elderly soles (not to mention the discoloration taking place on your body), I feel that I have no option.
Au revoir, mon amour. J'adore.
Rest in peace,
JMG
A girl only experiences her first pair of Chanel flats once. I remember the first time we met. You were so pretty and gold, and you fit so perfectly. You have been loyal to me for many years and it is very difficult to say goodbye. However, given the rank odor emanating from your elderly soles (not to mention the discoloration taking place on your body), I feel that I have no option.
Au revoir, mon amour. J'adore.
Rest in peace,
JMG
Frivolous? Not at all. Clothing can be an inanimate, intimate companion. The email made me think of items that are faithful companions to me- a navy coat with a voluptuous fur collar, Ray-Ban Wayfarers. And shoes- especially shoes. I wear a lot of flats and I have a talent for ruining them in spectacular ways- an impromptu hike on top of a mountain, an outdoor concert at South Street Seaport that ended in a rainstorm, very long walks around various cities. I also have a pair of beloved Converse that I bought the day I moved to New York- they were white, but after 8 years of use-- not so much.
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| favorite shoes |
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