Today I was cleaning my room and going through my shoes... I have a couple new pairs and my closet and my shoe rack are getting pretty full so I was considering tossing some of the extra-worn pairs out. Going through each pair of shoes started making me nostalgic. I always get nostalgic in the fall as it is. So many of my fondest memories were created in falls of yore. The crisp air, the starry night skies, the smell of wood burning in people's fireplaces, the smell of dried leaves on the cold earth, all makes me very emo and sentimental. I started thinking of Fall 2009, the year my life changed the most. The fall at Cliff Street was the most momentous of them all... I was living in an apartment with one of my best friends, I was running free and wild, throwing costume parties on a monthly basis, drinking four nights out of seven, making out with boys, breaking hearts, getting my heart broken. It was the fall I made all of my Oneonta friends, the fall I met my boyfriend, the fall I learned how confusing and hard life can really be. I was careless and free and covering up all of my insecurities and anxieties with alcohol and the affections of various boys. Always looking for the next excuse to throw an awesome party and dress up. Today, alone in my room, I picked up what were once my favorite pair of booties. Now, they are nothing more than a pair of studded boots that have been loved and worn beyond repair. I thought about throwing them out, what with their missing studs, busted up stiletto heels, and the leather has been torn on the front toes from wild nights spent running down Oneonta sidewalks, smashing wine glasses in other people's basement parties, and sashaying all about my apartment complex drunk as a skunkasaurous. They were covered in dust from sitting on my shoe rack, and even though I haven't worn them in about two years and have no plans to ever again, I couldn't bare to throw them out. Silly, considering they are an inanimate object, and whatever memories I have attached to them are in my head now. Don't get me wrong, I am by no means a hoarder, nor do I ever intend to be one, but I get very sentimental with my shoes and clothes. I can remember what I was wearing on every important or significant day of my life dating back to preschool. It's strange really. I remember what I was wearing on my first day of every grade dating back to kindergarten; I remember every halloween costume, what I wore to every party, every school dance, what I was wearing on September 11th, 2001- I even remember what other people are wearing. I sound like a creep saying this, but I remember what my best friend was wearing the first day of ninth grade, what the new girl in our class was wearing on the first day of ninth grade, what my boyfriend was wearing when I first met him... I guess my obsession with clothes is legit.
Anyhow, I digress. I was looking at my broken down, studded booties, and I remembered the time I got rip-roaring drunk on electric lemonades that I made for another one of my best friends and a friend that I had just only met that night. I ended up going to a basement/dance party at the next door neighbor's house and ran into this kid who had previously wronged me in the worst way. He grabbed my ass and tried to dance with me, and I was so offended that I told him off and pushed him away. I was wearing my studded booties at the time. I ended up breaking a wine glass on the dance floor later that night, had some fugly bitch tell her friends that "someone needs to take that girl's [referencing me] drink away," and later ended up crying on my kitchen floor after eating a microwaved frozen pizza and being tucked into bed by my two friends. Some might say this was a terrible night... and it probably was. But in retrospect, it was a glorious night and I wouldn't trade it for anything. My booties from that night made me feel like a sexy bitch, even if I was acting the sloppy fool. haha... and for that reason, I won't part with them anytime soon.
I am now the proud owner of some sick Jeffrey Campbell Lita's (yes, I finally gave in and bought them for myself- hey, we all deserve nice things sometimes). They make my legs look extra long and make me feel like one bad ass, sexy mofo when I wear them. I think they are my new faves and I can't wait to break them in.
Shoes: The busted up studded booties sit on the top. Then we have my favorite pair of two-tone heels on the far right, a present from my sister- they tore my feet apart when I wore them for a class presentation at FIT, but have since redeemed themselves as I was wore them to many a fabulous party, including 'Cliff Warming' when I told the guy I was seeing that someone fed me Valium and he needed to come over straight away... he did. Then there are the shoes I wore to my sister's wedding which happen to be the same shoes that I wore when I was dared to run down the street in my underwear, the boots I wore to paint almost every set when I was at school, the sandals I loved for two years running, and various others... including the thigh-high, suede steve madden's that I was wearing one particularly fateful night in march 2.5 years ago when all hell broke lose. Good times.
I'm confidant that I will find a job soon. If not there is always stripping (JK, obviously). I should have enough money to live comfortably for a while if (God forbid) I don't find a job right away. I'm trying not to let that happen though. It's called my 'savings' for a reason.
