Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Tuesday ShoesDay: The Accidental Thrift Find

I was on my way to an appointment. Monday, first day the weather was cool enough to wear jeans , I slid on a pair of Toms I hadn't worn in a while, just for variety. I was out the door with time to spare.

Making good time, I was nearly to my destination when my foot caught the lip of an uneven section of pavement. I stumble. I regain my balance. I look around to see if anyone noticed. Nobody saw, I sighed relief. I turned to see what I tripped on, cursing the unevenness of the ground and my own sheer lack of balance.

Then I looked at my foot to assess the damage. I didn't feel any pain, but I just wanted to verify visually.

My heart sank. No, no injuries or even a scrape. Instead, I saw a gaping hole in the top of my Toms shoe, a pair I had owned for nearly 4 years.
Wrecked.
When I was on my way
To meet some one
That I couldn't be late for...

I'm glad to say that despite my Toms now being an open toe, I kept my cool. In fact, I was actually not too far from my favorite thrift.

I would have to be super quick.

Dashing into the store, a wave of doubt overcame me. How was I going to find a pair of size 9.5/10 comfy yet stylish shoes in 10 minutes when I usually took me weeks to find even one pair that was that size?

Now looking back on it, God was in the mix, because almost at that exact moment, the back of a pair of sort of tanish, sort of pinkish flats caught my eye. I picked them up, noticing the velvety feel of inside of the show. A huge, but unassuming bow caped the front. Croc embossed the whole of the shoe. I turned to read the label of the shoe (betting in my head it was Gap or Banana Republic).

Nope.

It read "kate spade". Gasp. Be still my thrifters heart. I just found a pair of gorgeous footwear created by one of my favorite designers. There was still one final test, the most important one. Fit. I slipped off my tattered Tom and slid into one of the flats, and you would have thought it was a scene from Cinderella or Sex In the City. They fit perfectly. Tucking them under my arm, I headed for the register, paid my $12 (yes, 12!) tossed my Toms into my bag and donned my new kates to my appointment.

And I wasn't even late.