“Every item of clothing has a narrative.” –Nancy Macdonell Smith
Smith, author of The Classic Ten, seems to understand the relationship I have with clothes. It’s not so much that I’m obsessed (though I’ve developed a growing shoe fetish under the influence of all these ‘Bama girls). But I am a very nostalgic person, and I do attach memories to certain pieces of clothing.
My black, off-the-shoulder stretch top from Delia*s always reminds me of my first trip to the Grand Ole Opry wiht the last guy I dated. (Don’t you feel so special!) I associate my pretty pink twirly Gap skirt with church the weekend of my summer project reunion. My gray pinstripe pants are reminiscent of my interview with Birmingham magazine and work days at Campus Crusade for Christ’s HQ. I have a pink trench that reminds me of breaking up with the aforementioned boy, but more recently became my “I’m getting my master’s degree!” coat.
Yes, I do try to replace negative memories with more positive ones. I know it’s a little weird. Welcome to my mind.
Likewise, I associate memories with each pair of shoes I own. I don’t have that many–only 15 pairs, and I’ve decided that one of these needs to be contributed to Goodwill. (I’d ask what I was thinking, but I know what I was thinking: I was thinking that I was in high school, chunky heels were in and I was poor.)
After returning home with my newest (and sexiest!) pair of heels, I was inspired to tell you the story of my life (or at least, the past few years of my life) through my shoes. The latest pair doesn’t have much noteworthy attributed to them… yet. But I’m sure they’ll merit something more mentionable than a touring show of Thoroughly Modern Millie in the near future. Maybe they can be my “I need a job and you’re going to offer it to me!” shoes.
Green snakeskin pumps with ankle strap, Nine West, $25 ($69 retail)