The Island Shoe Girl's Blog

Where shoes meet sand…

Shoe Psychosis January 22, 2012

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 9:53 am
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Who wouldn't go crazy with shoes like these? Photo by Jean Thornton.

Ever see a pair of heels that make you say, “I want to put you on my feet and wear you now?”  I do—almost every time I see a pair of amazing heels.  If there is a Casedia sale on Ruelala.com all I can think is ‘I want to put you on my feet’.  When an email lands in my inbox boosting a shoe sale at Niemen Marcus Last Call, my toes curl with anticipation.  Heaven forbid if I find myself in the clearance room of a department store shoe section—I can turn into a real stiletto-psychopath.  Another shopper might politely ask if I am done with a pair of shoes and I have to edit my natural urge to explain I am not done with the entire rack and who said she could come in this room anyway!

It’s like I have OCD or OCSS (Obsessive Compulsive Shoe Shopping); I never ever get enough.  Most people reserve the phrase “took my breath away” for the first time they see a spouse or their child.  Me, I use it to describe how I feel when I am near designer shoes.   No matter how hard I try to control my desires, I find myself frequently out of control.  This is a realization I came to during the post-holiday season sales after calculating my total shoe intake in less then 3 weeks as 12 pairs.  Apparently this is more shoes than most people buy all year. 

I have no will power when I am faced with rows upon rows of stilettos, pumps, wedges, and sling-backs all calling my name from their cozy shoeboxes.  They beckon me to just try them on, no commitment, no promises to buy…just slip them on for a minute and see how they feel.  See how their arches feel against the bottom of my foot.  See how their leather straps wrap around my ankles.  See how they would complement every single piece of clothing that I own or could ever desire to own. 

These little shoe voices whisper softly in my ear, “oh we go together so well.”  And I am left breathless by how right those shoes are.  I am also frequently forced to live on a shoe string budget because of those same shoes… oh the irony of a girl who hates tennis shoes to be forced to live on a budget named after them!   Perhaps these little shoe voices could get me a diagnosis of shoe-schizophrenia.  But who would want a cure for an infliction that makes my toes look oh so good?

I might honestly have an unknown shoe psychosis that has yet to be acknowledged by the American Psychological Association or the Diagnostic Manual’s latest edition.  Treatment option could be limited; group therapy would probably only fuel my habits.  A group of women sitting around talking about shoes… yeah, that’s helping—especially if they are a similar shoe size.  I couldn’t face  treatment from a therapist with bad shoes. And electroshock therapy would likely only make my hair frizzy.  There might be prescription medications that could help control these urges, but what if they had unpleasant side effects like not wanting to buy shoes? 

Thus I find there is no hope for me except to continue to manage my illness the best way I know how.  With more shoes of course!  Some might say I am shoe crazy, but I wonder if maybe you are in a shoe depressive state of sorts.   Maybe the whole world is insane from lack of shoes and my fellow shoe lovers and I are the only truly “normal” ones. 

Okay, I am pushing it.  I can hear groans of disgust through your computer screens as you read this.  Luckily for me I let the voices of my shoes drown out the voices of my detractors.  So I seek comfort in my shoe closet where the voices say, “We are so glad you brought us home…you should go back to the store and get a few more of our friends.”

 

Shoe-Anticipation June 6, 2010

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 8:40 am
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The key to successful shoe shopping is a pair of shoes that allows easy on and off. These gold Aldo heels say professional shopper! Photo by Jean Thornton.

Oh sweet, sweet anticipation! As I write this, I am less then 72 hours away from a shopping weekend with my friends. As many of you read this, you are doing so within a 20 minute drive to a mall or some type of shopping plaza. But I am sitting 140 miles away from Niemen Marcus. Add to that a speed limit average of 45 mph up the Keys, and that makes my trip almost 4 ½ hours just to get to the parking lot. These trips are few and far between, especially when I used to shop for shoes 2 to 4 times a week when I lived in Ohio. As the final hours dwindle down, my shoe-anticipation gets higher than a Christian Louboutin stiletto!

There are many things residents in the Florida Keys go without that are probably so much a part of your daily environment that you have long stopped noticing them. For example, a Target may be a quick stop to pick up toiletries and a birthday card but for many, but to Key Westers it is ‘Mecca’ offering aisles and aisles of treasures and some at clearance prices. Want your bra and panties to match? Not so fast in Key West! While this little outfit detail may go unnoticed by most, I have to cross my fingers and pray to find a matching set amongst the clearance racks down here. Even “Fast Food” is limited. I know you are groaning about this, but until you live without the guilty pleasure of Taco Bell or Arby’s, you do not know my struggles! Judge me when you go a year without a Mexi-Melt!

But nothing hits this shoe girl harder then living without a mall. Sometimes I think I truly understand how the survivors on Lost felt. Sure I am not building a hut out of the leftover pieces of a plane, but you try to put together an outfit with my limited resources. Not only am I fighting against the style odds of living on an island, but I am also fighting against all of the other fashionistas who also wear my sizes. It’s like a cage match with the whole island open game for shopping smack downs.

So I am sure you understand the excitement and hope that spring eternally every time I get the rare opportunity to shop on the “Mainland.” These road trips are more carefully planned then some special operation initiatives. My team of fellow shoppers and I spend hours reviewing what malls, outlets, thrift shops, and boutiques offer the best styles and sales. We discuss the best routes, calculate drive times, and reconfigure ways to pack the trunk with the most bags to ensure that no shoe is left behind. Only after hours and hours of studying enlarged maps and store directories are we ready for our shopping attack… I mean shopping trip.

Our arrival is like a scene out of a movie as we strut through the parking lot wearing looks of sheer determination. Wordlessly, we spread out to our various preferred stores. For me it’s always a direct line to the shoes. I have little desire for anything else since my personal belief is that good shoes make up for any other fashion flaw. Generally, I give myself a budget; generally that budget is gone within 25 minutes. This is not my fault—clearly God wants me to have these shoes or he wouldn’t show them to me.

There is something about the feel of carrying bags & bags of new purchases. Maybe it’s because I so seldom get the opportunity to walk through a mall with the handles of bags cutting into my arms and leaving marks on my wrist as the weight of my purchases hangs on me. Just like a scene from Pretty Woman, I feel like a prostitute that just struck it big! Okay not exactly, but I do feel like someone, who while only 140 miles from home, is thousands of miles away from the reality and stress of life. I am in my moment of Zen; I have found my inner peace; and I have rediscovered the joy of a slingback!

Our shopping trip is brief, as my shopping crew and I must all return to our sunny little island and, of course, back to the jobs that pay for all these treasures. But for the moment I am lost in another time and place—enjoying the afterglow of a good day of shopping. As we drive back into the Florida Keys with our checkbooks lighter, our credit cards smoking, and our trunk barely closed, I cannot help but think about my next trip back and the Shoe-Anticipation begins again.

 

Rest Your Heels December 27, 2009

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes,Uncategorized — theislandshoegirl @ 10:07 am
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The Island Shoe Girl is up North for the holidays, so she is posting a favorite and spending time with her family…okay she is actually busy buying shoes and shopping the after-Christmas sales!  Enjoy your loved ones- both people and shoes, The Island Shoe Girl will be back next week with a new blog and many, many, many new shoes!

The Island Shoe Girl is resting her heels this week...fabulous Michael Kors heels. Photo by Jean Thornton.

I Shoe Good

There are two types of women in the world: those who shoe and those who don’t.  Of course every woman owns some type of shoe; it is rare to see a woman roaming barefoot in modern day society.  But here I refer to shoe as a verb, defined as “an unstoppable urge which must be acted upon immediately to buy, preserve and cherish shoes”.  Those who don’t shoe should just stop reading now.

If you are not sure if you shoe or not, ask yourself how many shoes you have in your closet.  If your number is less than five and you are not actively dividing your inventory into categories such as heels, boots, flats, sandals and athletic but instead are thinking of piles such as black, brown, blue and house slipper…you do not shoe.

However!  If you’re still debating whether you should start with designers and now are imagining a whole organization system for your shoe closet…you shoe!  You shoe so good that when asked your shoe size you respond with, “doesn’t matter, I will get my feet in there!”  You shoe so good, that you have photos of every pair stored in a fire proof box at a local bank for insurance maters.  Right now just the thought of shoes makes your arches long for the feel of a six-inch Italian-made stiletto.  Oh baby! You shoe good!

I like to think that I shoe pretty good myself, all things considered.  See I am an Island Shoe Girl, a transplant from a land of malls and weekend sales.  A hard day at work or a horrific final term paper in grad school sent me straight to my comfort zone, shoe stores.  My life has roughly three loves; my family, helping others and shoes.  My job brought me to Key West, Fl, where I work as a case manager at homeless shelter, and, for the record, I love this job and the island it has brought me to.  I love my family, but distance is nothing new as my brothers have also branched out across the East Coast.  But it’s a real struggle living over 140 miles away from the continental United States and a Neiman Marcus shoe department.

These days the best I can hope is that a pair of Calvin Klein pumps work their way into our local re-sale warehouse, nothing is sadder than a designer heel with the tell-tale sign of warehouse sales: the re-sale black mark across the bottom so that when you casually cross your legs, the whole world knows those shoes came without a box.  On the plus side, the price is almost always a steal which eases the pain of not having the shoe buying experience that would generally come along with a designer label.

Yes, there is the online dating version of shoe shopping through name brand websites and eBay.  Yes, I have had some success in these avenues; but much like the commercials promoting endless love with only a few clicks, you know it’s never as good a story as when it happens in person.

Certainly it is hard to get the perfect job, the perfect family connection, and the perfect shoes all in one locale that does not permit snow.  So yes, I shop the re-sale warehouse and internet.  Thankfully, after a year and half of being without a “shoe store” other then Payless, a Nine West Factory store opened which eased the pain a little.  While anxiously awaiting its opening, I would press my face against the store front windows like a child trying to peek into Santa’s Workshop to see what delights may be arriving.

To be fair there are “other” shoe stores—the previously-mentioned Payless, an athletic shoe store, and numerous flip flop and sandals shops, including places that sell the dreaded blob of plastic – Crocs.  While I am sure that there is nothing wrong with the shoes sold at these outlets, they are just not for me.  Like the perfect on paper guy there is no thrill

I can never walk away from a good deal on shoes or even an average deal…let’s be honest you have to drag me away kicking and screaming from any shoes even full price.  Which makes the trips to real malls and real shoe stores outside of the Florida Keys all the more dangerous—especially when your friend supposedly providing the voice of reason wears the same size and whispers “do it” behind your shoulder. If my guardian angel does have a voice, it is muffled by her shrieks of joy at seeing a Manolo Blanhik  strappy  heel on the clearance rack.  Choirs from the Heavens belt out the chorus of “Rich Girl” by Gwen Stefani while I add up all the good deeds I did to earn…no wait deserve these shoes.  In my head I am strutting past all those K-mart flip flop-wearing fools as they part like the Sea before Moses, all eyes glued to fine craftsmanship tied to my ankles.   The next thing I know, plastic is flying at the cashier and my toes are curling with delight.  I have to fight the urge to scream, “Yes, I shoe; I shoe good!”

The car ride home is a long four hours over bridges and little islands that make up the Florida Keys.  I am going over in my head how to cut corners to afford the shoes practically baby-seated in the back seat.  First, plan- stop eating.  Second, plan- pick up some extra shifts at the second job I already have to pay for my shoe addiction.  Third plan- no more shoes shopping until these are paid off.  Those plans will remain in place until I retrieve my Marie Claire from the mailbox.  As I place my new shoes in a special, protective glass case, I notice the magazine cover headline raving about a new chunky ankle boot by Gucci.  Suddenly, Fergie’s “Clumsy” comes on the radio of my mind,  “The girl can’t help, she just help it. She’s back in love!”  And I am.

I shoe; I shoe real good.

 

The Joy of Getting Lost December 6, 2009

Filed under: Common Sense in Unsensible Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 8:31 am
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These Dolce and Gabana heels are perfect for going no where at all! Photo by Jean Thornton

I recently had the chance to be a stranger in a strange land; for a little island girl, Miami is not only a big city, but a strange one too.  I was undeterred—the bright lights and fast-moving traffic cannot sway this shoe girl from tracking down every shoe clearance rack in the greater Miami area.  Thanks to the wonderful world of Wi-Fi and my lap top, I was quickly Googling directions to all the shopping hot spots I could find.  Yet five minutes into the drive I found myself cursing my mis-guided map questing which was leading me the wrong way down one way streets and had me swerving semi trucks in the express lane.  I could not help but wonder: what ever happened to good old-fashioned navigation and exploration?

I quickly realized that a traffic jam in Miami is as common as stiletto in my shoe closet, and I began re-thinking taking that GPS system off my holiday wish list last year.  With my printed directions offering little solution and leaving  me with time while sitting in the bumper-to-bumper traffic to ponder why I chose the “quickest route offered via interstate” and why I was spending all my free time pushing on towards the next shopping destination when I wasn’t even sure what I would find there.  In a world where it is becoming more and more difficult to get lost, I was lost and in more ways than one. 

GPS comes on our cell phones, built into our cars, and sometimes I think it would be good on my designer heels in case of theft.  But is it really so great to always to be told the quickest route to the next shoe sale or whatever life’s next adventure is?  Here I was, having a road rage panic attack because traffic was preventing my speedy arrival; however, I really had no schedule.  Yet I was convinced I had to get where I was going so I could get there and leave for the next destination. 

In my search for Shoe Mecca, I was passing by tons of little shops and boutiques that just may have hidden heel treasure inside.  Like so often in life, I was focusing only on my destination.  I could not help but see the similarity in my own life: rush through the work week to get the weekend; rush through the grocery store to get home, usually forgetting half my list; rush to the bank; rush to meet friends, only to rush off so I can get a good rest for the next day of rushing.  Even in asleep my mind is rushing through confusing dreams of what my future might look like. 

It’s no wonder that on a day when I had no place I had to be, I spent it rushing to stores that maybe had some great deals, I have become accustomed to not sitting still and enjoying where I am when I am there.  As children we love adventure; an afternoon spent exploring is a delight.  The older we get, the more we push ourselves to reach our next goal, the next milestone, and the next step—even when there are no plans beyond the moment we are in.  Even in Key West, where taking it slow is our motto, I see us all becoming more caught up in what is happening next. 

When I finally arrived at the end of my directions, I was hardly saying, “Woohoo!”  I was disappointed in what I found.  There were no secret shoe deals; there were hardly any deals at all.  I won’t even express my sadness at the handbag selection.  However, I decided not to leave empty handed or minded, so to speak.  I determined that it was time to stop looking for the next ‘thing’ or sale, and to start looking at what the journey had to offer.  It may not be the shoes we find at our determined destination that brings us the most joy and satisfaction, but maybe it’s the shoes we walked in that give us the true happiness we are looking for.  I took the long way back to the hotel and cruised along at the speed limit.  Let someone else take the express way, it was time to enjoy having time and no place to be.  

PS.  Do not worry my shoe fanatical friends, I still left Miami with seven delightful pairs of shoes!

 

Clearance Rack Groceries September 20, 2009

Filed under: Common Sense in Unsensible Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 11:46 am
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These Calvin Klein heels were a clearance rack find that are beyond fabulous. Photo Jean Thornton

These Calvin Klein heels were a clearance rack find that are beyond fabulous. Photo Jean Thornton

During a recent phone call to my cousin, I was detailing my latest handbag purchase from Coach.  It was my fourth bag in three months; all were purchased on sale, and all for prices so low I could not justify passing them by.  This is my secret shopping confessional, as an expensive new handbag has become a recession dirty deed.  My cousin not only understands my shopping guilt, she feels it too as she confesses her own recent Coach purchase.  Should I feel bad for buying this new piece of delightful arm candy—and the new wallet inside—while others are facing job loss? 

Later, I cruise through the grocery store with this new treasure at my side; I love it so much I won’t let it touch the grocery cart.  As I determine the best value jar of peanut butter, I catch myself weighing pennies verses name brands.  It occurs to me that I am willing to price cut my own diet and nutrition in exchange for labels and luxury when it comes to my fashion diet.  I cannot recall the last time I bought a steak, but I can tell you when that Dolce and Gabbana online sale starts! 

I am one of the many across the United States cutting back on groceries, cruising on almost-empty gas tanks, and sitting in the dark to try and pad my wallet (again it is a really cute Coach wallet).  I have always been a budget girl.  I like knowing exactly where my bottom line is and how to hold it.  I set saving goals each month and make sure to reach them.  My credit score is great and shocks most bankers who look from it to my shoes and try to figure out how my salary, those shoes, and that credit rating can coexist together.  Their face reads plaids mixed with animal print as they struggle to rationalize the combination.   

It is with great pride that I can point to what I have achieved financially as an example that anyone can do it.  I also have to give credit to my parents and their fiscally minded approach to parenting us.  But it does make me wonder: as girl raised without an unending cash flow from mom and dad, how did I end up with such designer tastes?

I am very sure that not everyone in the world immediately presses themselves against the Banana Republic store window and sings “Hello Dolly” to the new wrap dress displayed with a stunning gold heel.  I am basing this on the fact that I do not see anyone else except my partner in shopping crime suction-cupped with me, like matching Garfield cats in the back of a Buick.  Only after we start getting strange looks from other passers-by do we pry ourselves off and begin a debate over whether we can justify the purchase.  It usually ends with the same logic—wait for the clearance rack.

Once an item hits the clearance rack, all arguments for not buying it fly out the window.  You see, if you put “% off” next to anything, it suddenly becomes equally better by that same amount.  For example, the beautiful black patent leather Steve Madden heels I just bought at 70% off magically became 70% more fabulous than their original level of fabulousness.  That is why it is easier to walk away from 20% off that Ralph Lauren dress because the level of fabulous has not increased to the point of it being unbearable not to buy it!  A general rule of thumb is that anything over 60% off is unstoppable and credit cards need to be applied.

So my proposal is that the rest of the retail world take a clue from sample sales and knock down their prices.  When the stock market tumbles, do not proclaim it a bad day; instead announce that Wall Street is having a mid-season sale with prices so low you would be a fool to walk away.  Perhaps a buy two mutual funds, get the third for free (of equal or lesser value of course).  Soon the investment report will be as exciting as the celebrity gossip update when you’re checking out the latest craze… overseas’ markets!

It’s all about how you market the markdown that makes those items fly off the shelf.  Are those fresh fruits and vegetables about to spoil?  I say it’s a “make room for new produce” sale.  Mark those slightly squishy Squashes down and watch those deals walk out the door!   Buy in the off-season for great savings; it’s like buying a bathing suit in December for next summer’s pool days.   So apply the same logic and stock up on pumpkin filling in July for next Thanksgiving’s pie.  If this trend catches on, maybe we can get the electric company to jump on the BOGO (Buy One, Get One) band wagon!  Who would not love to get July’s electric bill for free when cranking up the AC to beat the summer heat?

Let’s face it, women will never give up their designer names and luxurious leather soles for a gallon of milk; but if that milk is part of the grocery red line clearance section, you just might be able to justify purchasing both.  Just because the budget is a little tighter does not mean that you have to cut all the fun from life or all the nutrition from your diet.  The key is shopping smarter and embracing the discounts as they come along.  Hey, even my name-brand pure breed Jack Russell dog was bought on discount from the local animal shelter; sure he is slightly used but every bit as loveable.

 

It’s Okay to Shoe April 19, 2009

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 3:20 pm
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Sure you could wear out your faded Flip-Flops, but why not strut these fabulous Steve Maddens!?! It's Okay to Shoe!

Sure you could wear out your faded Flip-Flops, but why not strut these fabulous Steve Maddens!?! It's Okay to Shoe! Photo by Jean Thornton

For generations and generations, women have had to keep their love of shoes at the bottom of a closet. All around the world women have been shamed into believing that a love of shoes is something to hide, like a tattoo from a college spring break that bares the name of a long lost frat boy who held your beer bong. Women were forced to believe that other things should come before shoes—boring things like savings accounts and utility bills. They were led to believe that stilettos did not belong in board room or the grocery store, taught that in the fast pace of today’s world they could not keep up in a four-inch stacked heel.

But a change has begun to sweep across the nation, a revolution has begun to take shape, and that shape is a fabulous open-toe pump. It is time for the women of the world to reunite and stand strong together in our great strappy satin sandals. Shoe girls of the world: shed your shame and your boring brown loafers, free your shoes from the bottom of your closet and lift them up with the proper shelving system both you and they deserve. It’s okay to shoe, it’s your God given right.

Be not afraid to declare yourself in love with shoes in all their glory and fabulousness. Shout from the rooftops that you have more shoes than you could possibly need… and still want more! After all, if you were supposed to only have 10 pairs of shoes there wouldn’t be so many in the shoe store. Do not fight the urge to wear shoes that are completely inappropriate for the weather: strut those open toes through the snow and slip on those knee-high boots despite the heat wave. Make your new Chanel platforms your screen saver and update your Facebook status to “in love with those new Marc Jacob Patent Leather Star Pumps”! Worry not what others think because you are not the first; I go before you as your guide into shoe-ing.

You see, I, too, was once afraid to admit how many shoes I had. I, too, once thought that shoes went on the bottom of a closet and was naïve enough to believe it was okay for a shoe closet and clothing closet to mix. After years of denying my feet the pleasure of being adorned with golden buckles and studs, I discovered my inner shoe girl and let her out. It was like all of the sudden I discovered that, no matter how bad the world might seem, having pretty shoes makes all of your worries go away. Like little guardian angels for your feet, shoes take away all your problems.

Look at it like this: you know that guy who loves a sports team or any sports team from a certain city. Examine how he spends his time—watching anything about that team, listening to sports experts talk about that team, researching that team online, and calling his friends to talk about the team. He wears the team’s jerseys, t-shirts, hats and perhaps even jewelry. He reads countless articles about his team and the coaching styles; most likely he has a fantasy version of his team that he spends more time planning for than he does picking his 401k investments. He celebrates when his team wins and pouts when his team loses. He is obsessed; he is dedicated—he is called a fan.

A woman who worships shoes to the same extent is patronized for her dedication to the new winter line of Manolo Blahniks. Why does her shoe closet rank higher than his fan room on the scale of crazy? Yet, you would never see a shoe girl standing outside a Jimmy Choo sample sale wearing a brightly colored Afro wig holding a sign that says “Choo Rules!” And if a shoe girl lingers for twenty minutes in front a store window with the latest Prada T-Straps, suddenly she has a problem.

The only way to fight back is to stand up in those fabulous hand-stitched leather insoles and say that you refuse to take it anymore. Refuse to let those Stuart Weitzman’s shine only at a wedding; take those bad boys to work and show your boss what you’re really worth. Strut those Michael Kors down the grocery aisle if you can’t strut them down the runway. Be the shoe girl that deep down inside you have always been. Slip on those bejeweled heels and say, “I am a shoe girl!”

Will being a shoe girl always be easy? No, of course not! Will there be blisters? Yes. Will there be leg cramps? Yes. Will there be times when you can only take very careful small steps? Of course. But will there be moments when a whole room falls silent in recognition of your beautiful clicks as you enter in your latest shoe victory? Oh, yes and those will be the moments that you visualize anytime your eyes lock on a pair of YSL booties. When you slip those sensational shoes on, you will instantly see that moment accompanied by the flash of paparazzi capturing your public debut in these latest additions to your shoe art collection. As you catch your first breath, use it to say…

“It’s okay to shoe.”

 

Cold Turkey Mall Withdrawal April 5, 2009

Filed under: Common Sense in Unsensible Shoes,Key West; Not Just for Flip Flops — theislandshoegirl @ 2:23 pm
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When I lived in Ohio I had all the mall shopping I could desire. Only minutes from my apartment was a mall, a Target, numerous shoe stores and a Barnes and Noble with unending aisle of reading pleasure. Should I long for higher-end shopping, I just zipped up the interstate that delivered me to more malls and more shoe sections filled with delights just waiting for my credit card. One big problem was that the majority of the year, when I exited those malls I exited into the frigid Ohio weather.

Not only was I annoyed at always covering my outfits with bulky winter coats, I was also annoyed at the limitation it placed on my footwear (though for the most part, I ignored this and wore my sandals despite the chill). As much as I tried to embrace any day with a high at or above 55 degrees as warm, it just was not working. I am not sure if it was all the slip & falls on my way to class on icy days. Or maybe it was my constant debate as to whether I should drink the coffee or pour it down my pants to regain some feeling in my frozen limbs. Whatever it was, somewhere along the way I was pushed over the edge… or at least over the many bridges that lead to Key West.

My dream home on the Southernmost Island provides me with plenty of warm days and endless opportunities to show off my painted toes in my vast variety of shoes. But as always, there is a catch 22, and my Key West catch is not a Grouper (yuck, like I would catch a fish!) but the lack of shopping…mainly shoe shopping and malls. Plenty of palms trees and beach towels but not a single mall in sight.

I can tell I am starting to go through mall withdrawal when a JC Penny’s commercial starts to look good. Suddenly, everything reminds of Macy’s—from my Clinque lip-gloss to a starfish that looks suspiciously like that cute red star. My Macy’s card starts whispering through my wallet, “psst… Stephanie! What are you doing? Don’t you want to use me?”

I once believed that only Third World countries did not have a Gap… I have now amended that to Third World countries AND the Florida Keys. Seriously, I am all about uniqueness, but come on, would a rack of khaki Chinos kill us! Old Navy commercials actually start to make me laugh, which may also be a sign of a brain aneurysm. When I think about a J. Crew or heaven forbid an H&M, I get a funny flutter in my stomach and bite my lower lip.

Oh and a shoe section—a real live shoe section! One with tables of shoes nicely displayed in an artistic manner that celebrates their grace and beauty! And there are cushioned chairs with arms where happy sales clerks glide over, carrying arm loads of boxes covered with names like Betsy Johnson, Michael Kors, and Charles David. I am going to stop now before I scream out loud with the frustration of being an island shoe girl stranded (slight exaggeration, I know) on a desolate island (any place without a Steve Madden shoe store is desolate to me!).

Simply typing of this makes me long to gas up my car and start the four hour drive to the mainland and the nearest mall. Yet, during these troubling economic times and accepting the reality that money does not grow on trees or on Visa cards I have no choice but to park my butt on the sofa and detox. Quick somebody block my internet access before I start sneaking online sales from Bluefly!

By noon tomorrow I will be so strung out and craving the feel of shiny bags with cord handles that I am trying to justify a visit to the expensive boutiques down town. I will want to be weighed down with packages and stuff receipts in my purse, to have my trunk filled with new purchases and go through the joy of removing price tags as I hang up a new impractical dress that I will never wear at a Key West casual event (aka your best cut off shorts). With trembling hands I call my Dad to talk me down and bring me back to reality. I need someone who can literally go eleven months without a mall to get me through this.

After the pep talk I feel calm and am almost sure I can make it the next 12 hours with only mild shaking. They say the first 24 are the worst, right? Perhaps I could be more proactive; remove my email from my multiple shopping alerts, throw away the catalogs on the coffee table; maybe I could even start a mall widow’s support group.

Or I could dress really bad while my friend “secretly” tapes me for my nomination to What Not to Wear, and score a $5,000.00 shopping spree in New York City. Get the video camera out; I’ll find those old sweat pants!

 

 
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