Self-control

Here are the things I didn't buy today at Ye Olde Thrift Shoppe.

1. New Faryl Robin beetle-green metallic wedge sandals. A size too small. Damn.
2. Blue glass candy jar masquerading as Papa Smurf.
3. Bronze clear-heeled Springolators. Also a size 9. Also too small. Damn damn.

Let's get a little closer to the last item.


Five years ago I would have bought these even though they were not my size. Ten years ago I would have peed my pants the minute I saw them. I mean, clear plastic heels? Come ON. BANANAS, as Rachel z'Oh! (aren't you kind of excited her show's new season is about to start again?) would say.

Bronze is, after all, my favorite neutral color for footwear; it goes with everything. I love a suede footbed. And the Springolator is probably the most comfortable heel that Jimmy Choo/Manolo Blahnik doesn't make. Okay, technically, they aren't really Springolators (if it sounds like I'm speaking Greek right now, go here) but I prefer that name to "Mule". The only good Mule is a Muskovite, and yes, I have had one at the Gilt Club of Portland Oregon. It was as tasty as the last item I didn't buy today:

Are you sitting down?

A yellow terrycloth (my freedom fabric) romper. Dolphin hem. Made in Miami, Florida (the tag said so). And festooned (I really think that's the most accurate word in this case) with a gold and white braided belt.

I tried taking a picture of it for you. I even laid it out all nice-like on a black leather couch, next to a framed colored-pencil drawing of a lion and his lady. But I don't know. I was in such a foul mood. It was hot. I felt guilty for waking The Littlest Dictator from her nap so I could shop for things I don't need. There was no way my baby-birthing hips could have squeezed into said romper. In my previous life, as a non-mom, I would have rocked them with the Bronzeolators. But today, not a chance. I even felt sheepish having my camera out. So I didn't get the picture.

I *knew* I'd regret it.