“we are our choices.” // j.p. sartre
i’m not really sure what i was thinking yesterday. perhaps it was just a momentary lack of judgement on my part, or i just forgot myself, and where i was for a moment.
i didn’t want to wear my black, heavy-leather stompers – the ones that are rugged and more or less waterproof, those that can be worn in the muck and slush without fear of ruining them – a baby-wipe, (which one invariably ends up having in the house way past the time your so-called baby (now four), needs ‘wiping’), will do the trick for any salt and sundry stain.
instead, i chose to wear a pair of suede single sole creepers. suede. it was dry out when i left, the curbs were gray with aged snow, but the walks were clear. and yet. not two hours later an accumulation of big, soft flakes were impossible to avoid. and now, in the corner of my eye, i see them drying – water-stains signifying my poor life choices. i yearn for the day when i can wear a flat without fear, that i can don a suede shoe without unease – oh, to the day i can put on a shoe without putting on a pair of tights and thick socks first.
you wouldn’t happen to have any idea when that might be, would you?
➝ source : checkerboard slip-ons via vans
➝ source : cut-out brogues via minimarket