Recently I updated my “Cool Stuff’ page and it reminded me of a boot buying expedition I just had to share. Living in small town Oklahoma; Dallas is like a shopper’s mecca. Growing up, we would load up the girls and venture South for a buying expedition at least once a year. On one of these buying trips in college I fell in love. Deeply, madly and truly.

They were gold dust leather, cockroach killers with baby pink Swarovski crystals. Be still my heart. They also were the low, low price of $989. That price tag was worse than a break up. Luckily, I have always had a special connection with shoe salesmen. This special one took great pity on me. Once a month, he’d call and update me on the sale status of my boots. I secretly think he hid my size for me.  These boots would have been easily sold in Dallas; they were H-O-T-T hot.  Six months later, after they’d been slashed half of half of half, he called me again and I placed my order. I still hold a grudge on the errant person who stepped on my toe a few years ago and smudged the leather.

Everyone needs a pair of their own. But you have to find your own special shoe salesman.