While I was home last, the Girl convinced me to upgrade my thirty quid dress shoes, from Topman, for the wedding. We headed to Saks (on Fifth Avenue) as they had all of the designer labels under one roof. While I meandered about the selection, mostly pointing out the ones I didn't like, we laughed at the price tag of some of the more ludicrous looking ones - I'm sorry but if you are paying more than $2000 for mens shoes then you really need reassess the value of money. Soon enough the Girl grabbed a helpful clerk to assist and after a brief discussion of the occasion he directed me to a lovely pair of shoes. The Girl's eyes lit up and I must say they were pretty good to look at. As the clerk went out the back to grab a range of sizes for me to try on, the Girl excitedly told me she was very happy I was trying on Salvatore Ferragamo's. At that stage, I had to turn over the shoes to see a very expensive price tag staring back at me. The only thing I could think of, was this was from the hide of a famous cow, perhaps it was once "Norman" from City Slickers. Regardless my next move was the beginning of my demise as the Girl said, "Just try them on for a starting point."
The gentleman returned and after a round of slipping on and off the different shapes, I was finally Cinderella with a perfect fit. I got up and walked around the store as the clerk had insisted I do, and all I could think was how did they get the pillows into this fine leather. They were not the hard bricks that I was used to trying on that only feel right on your feet a couple of days before you throw them out. No, this pair felt like they were made for my feet alone. It was around this time I saw the Girl smiling, the clerk had that look where he's thinking about the commission and my destiny sealed to spend a ludicrous amount of money on a pair of shoes. I must say it was a very good experience in general to have the old school salesman measure my feet and fit a range of shoes. My one saving grace was a final word from the Girl, "Don't worry, you didn't spend more money on the wedding shoes than I did." Not sure that is really a victory?
The gentleman returned and after a round of slipping on and off the different shapes, I was finally Cinderella with a perfect fit. I got up and walked around the store as the clerk had insisted I do, and all I could think was how did they get the pillows into this fine leather. They were not the hard bricks that I was used to trying on that only feel right on your feet a couple of days before you throw them out. No, this pair felt like they were made for my feet alone. It was around this time I saw the Girl smiling, the clerk had that look where he's thinking about the commission and my destiny sealed to spend a ludicrous amount of money on a pair of shoes. I must say it was a very good experience in general to have the old school salesman measure my feet and fit a range of shoes. My one saving grace was a final word from the Girl, "Don't worry, you didn't spend more money on the wedding shoes than I did." Not sure that is really a victory?
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