i definitely know what he means. i’ve always been incredibly picky about what makes its way into my wardrobe (see: selectorus neuroticus), but in the interest of maintaining my sanity, i’ve learned to make certain sartorial compromises. example: i’m partial to all things high-waisted, but i once caved and purchased a pair of levi’s with a low-slung waistline because i couldn’t find another cut in an equally brilliant cornflower blue. solution: it’s since been worn exclusively with oversize button-downs.
unfortunately, i’ve yet to discover any quick fixes to remedy a perceived footwear imperfection—this sole is slightly too thick, that pointed toe reads a bit too witchy—and so shopping for them is an endlessly arduous process. i’m drawn to styles spanning the ’40s through ’60s, but it’s no small feat to build a collection of wearable mid-century footwear with rarity, high prices, and the daunting prospect of upkeep all working against me. that’s why on the rare occasion that i find a contemporary shoe that i like, i acquire them without hesitation, sometimes in multiples.
these ankle-strap flats beckoned to me from a pixie market newsletter as i sifted through my inbox late last night. i clicked the link immediately, and…nothing. thirty minutes and a phone call to time warner cable later, i learned that an all-night service outage was to blame for intercepting fate, and of course, they were completely out of stock by morning. this isn’t over.
update: after hunting these things down like elmer fudd—that is, to no avail—i put my name on a wait list and scored them three weeks later. victory.
[images: pixie market]