I was working as a fashion assistant at Harper's Bazaar when I got engaged. My colleagues pooled their money and gave me the most wonderful gift a bride-to-be could ever want: a pair of white, peau de soie Manolo Blahnik slingback heels. My gown was purchased and in the hands of a talented tailor, the location and menu was set by my fastidious wedding planner (my mother) and, like Cinderella, I had the perfect shoes to complete the fairy tale that I was sure my wedding day would be.
Just as I hoped, the day was perfect. My toes did go numb as my father walked me down the aisle, but I like to think that was nerves rather than pure discomfort. My husband and I said our vows and then went on to dance the night away at our reception. I mingled with guests on the grassy lawn and I remember thinking, "Ooh, my silk heels are sinking into the grass. F---- it, it's my wedding!" At some point I tossed those precious pumps off so I could boogie down on the dance floor.
Weeks later, we returned from our honeymoon and life returned to normal. My husband and I both went back to work, regaled friends with stories of the wedding and our trip to Mexico and basically got on with the business of being married. At the time, I was in the habit of selling clothes and accessories on eBay to make some money (so I could buy more clothes and accessories that I would later sell on eBay). As I looked at my Manolo Blahniks, now sullied with a night's worth of partying, I shrugged my shoulders and thought, "Why not? I could use the extra cash." I listed them on eBay, and as with any big name accessories (Christian Louboutin, Chanel, Jimmy Choo -- any prominent designer goods get snatched up pretty fast), they were quickly purchased my a young woman in Australia. I packed them up and bid my wedding shoes adieu.
My husband and I are coming up on our ninth wedding anniversary and I feel a pang of regret at having sold my bridal shoes. While I may not have ever worn them again (I'm not really a slingbacks kinda gal), they were such a pretty reminder of one of the best days of my life. I did keep my wedding dress, but it's preserved and boxed up on a shelf in my house. So the next time I'll lay my eyes on the gown will be when my daughter (hopefully) wears it for her wedding. Who knows, maybe I would have dyed my shoes navy and worn them again. Or set them atop a pile of coffee table books to be admired like objets d'art. Whatever the case, I made a rash decision and got rid of something that I wish I hadn't. With that lesson learned I now keep all of my designer clothes and shoes, no matter how old. I figure someone will wear them again one day.
