is a single mama in the city, super-savvy editor, writer, video host and shameless shoe whore.
I'm pretty sure you don't need a man if you've got these shoes on Valentine's Day
Thursday, February 5, 2009 This much is clear: You don't need a man. You may want a partner to join you on this amazing and erratic journey. You may enjoy the sound of someone laughing uncontrollably at something off-handed and clever and quippy you threw out there without even thinking it up beforehand and then masterfully placing into the conversation. You may be compelled to have conversation that doesn't involve any words that involve bathroom activity or an evening out that doesn't require transporting a baggie of crayons and miniature Matchbox cars or Polly Pocket whatevers in your clutch. You may feel the overwhelming urge to get yourself some loving that doesn't require a trip to the battery aisle at Walgreen's. You may want to share an inside joke, a bottle of wine, a bucket of greasy popcorn, a laugh at the expense of some skinny-jeaned kid in the next aisle over. But you do not need a man.
And it is always best, I believe, to make these choices clear, especially when there is a very good possibility you will be ordering in a bucket of Lad Nar and painting your own toenails on a night when other people might be having an extraordinarily overpriced dinner out at a restaurant that...mehhhh, you've been to already and is great and everything but there's no need to have a single long-stemmed rose and a champagne toast and a velvet-trimmed card to feel loved and fine and happy and gooby anyway.
So if you know you don't need a man or if there isn't a partner in the picture to nervously ask if you have plans on Valentine's Day (or hell, both), then perhaps it is a good idea to center on the things that maybe feel a bit more necessary. Even if they don't laugh or hold the door although you are an empowered feminist woman, thank you very much.
Even if they don't come with a card signed with XOXOs or some cheap chocolate wrapped in cellophane. Even if they don't remember you sighed over those tiny earrings once four months ago and now they are wrapped in a little box and handed to you. Perhaps it is good to center on less interactive but oft-as-pleasing companions in V Day independence: Well, of course I mean shoes.
I mean shoes that are not meant for walking on any journey through life, but rather, meant for propping up on the couch and receiving your puppy-eyed stares of commitment and adoration. I mean shoes that are not meant for budgets and bigger goals of buying a house or paying off the divorce attorney, but rather, meant for splurging and squealing and wearing on a random Tuesday afternoon to greet the FedEx guy or while on a conference call or to spice up yoga pants and a college t-shirt.
I mean shoes that are not meant for anything else other than pure, possibly overstated, completely deserved pleasure. I mean shoes that are meant only for you to enjoy.
I will be honest. I am not going to really buy these shoes. I mean, if they (ahem) arrived in the mail, I wouldn't send them to some lady watching her stories in mom jeans and a kitty sweatshirt and Isotoner slippers somewhere outside of Jefferson City.
Oh no. I would take them into my closet and love them like I purchased them with credit cards of my own. But I am going to pretend like I am and I am going to put on my most serious contemplative face and I am going to nod and squint my eyes like I am weighing my options, considering my past and my future. And then I am going to spend far more time thinking about each pair, obsessing over them as if I am choosing my second husband out of a room full of bachelors that are too pretty and I don't know nearly well enough.
[Miu Miu Sequin Platform Pumps]
And then, after a pause that goes on just ten or twelve beats too long, I will take that long-stemmed rose that would have otherwise come before my crabcake appetizer had I been out with a human being and not eating more crunchy noodles than one woman should consume in a sitting, and I will place it on one very lucky pair.
Maybe it will lead to a little fling, where I will visit the chosen pair online and dream of how it feels cradling my arches. Or maybe I will just silently foster a crush from across the interwebs.
Regardless, with lust like that I really don't think I will be worried too much about talking politics or movies or what I am looking for in a relationship. I will be too preoccupied with my pretend and oh-so perfectly satin partners in anti-Valentine crime.
Reader Comments (12)
I'm working on a post for MomLogic.com -- due Wed. morning! -- about how to say "No" to Valentine's Day... can I quote you from this post?
Pretty please. Instead of desperately waiting for a date... you're getting some pretty shoes.
-altheya-
-altheya-