This is a very sad story.
This past December a group of friends and I decided to make the trek down to Chicago for the day to have a Christmassy adventure (and sort of a last hurrah for one of my friends, who would not be returning after break). I, of course, was most enthused for the shopping.
Our group split up, and I ended up with the aforementioned friend. We had a grand time, wandering the streets looking at all the decorations and exploring Christkindlmarket (the German Christmas market that sets up in Daley Plaza). But I wanted to do some real shopping, so I dragged my compatriot off to the land of stores. We moved through the shops, not finding much of interest (I was looking for a military-style jacket, which I eventually found a month later at my own hometown mall) until we entered Nordstrom Rack.
It was my first time inside, and I was overwhelmed by the amount of things as well as some of the pricetags ($50 is really the bargain basement price for scarves? Ouch.), but I gravitated to the shoes like a confused little gnat to the screen of my laptop. And that's where I saw them.
Via Spiga "Sorina." Blue (though it was really more teal in real life) suede. Buckled. Beautiful. $80. I was smitten, and they were IN MY SIZE, which is rare in nicer places. Apparently big-footed girls should wear clogs and like it. My friend checked the pricetag for himself and scoffed. We weren't even done shopping, and I intended to blow my money on a single pair of heels? "That's a lot of money for shoes," he said, solemn. My desperate "but, but, but" was countered with another, "That's a lot of money for shoes." I knew that it wasn't really a lot of money for shoes, not nice shoes, but I didn't own a pair of shoes that cost more than $30, so who was I to protest? I put them back. I walked away. I consoled myself, telling myself that Old Navy was right on the corner (my manfriend was in need of boxers) and what a bounty I could reap there for $80! I would come home with armloads of new clothes!
I left Chicago empty-handed. Sorina haunted me, demanding to know how I could put her and her beautiful soft suede back on the shelf to be snatched up by some fashionista who couldn't love her like I could. I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. I had listened to man's opinion (not merely a man, a Minnesotan!) about shoes instead of trusting my own instincts. I knew I had to right this wrong! I would find my shoes and I would bring them home to me, at last.
I discovered that Sorina retails at $198. $80 was pushing my budget...that blows it out of the water. I had to give up on my shoes, like Rose let go of Jack's hand.
Now, digging her up from the depth of the internet again to write this post, I see that Endless.com has them for around $110. Cautious hope is rekindled. Drop down just a little farther, my beloved Sorina. If you reach $80, I swear to snatch you up, and nothing will ever keep us apart again.