These are nearly identical to beloved sandals I had for about 18 years. Up & down countless steps & hills, deserts & cities, seashores & villages. Pulling out of a Metro station two days ago, I saw a woman wearing-- my sandals! (Or close.) Where, where? Did you get them? OK, I thought-yelled it. I do not believe they exist in this world--now--for less than $500 dollars. I don't remember where I bought them (a dust storm was kicking up), but they were in a half-smashed cardboard box. I searched for a left & then a right, paid, & left wearing them, running from that storm. So many people asked me about those sandals. They served me well. Until one day, a cobbler said Not even I, Signorina, can mend these. You must say good-bye. I know it is hard. Much history, yes? 
Showing posts with label it's not about the sandals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label it's not about the sandals. Show all posts
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Summer Sandals
These are nearly identical to beloved sandals I had for about 18 years. Up & down countless steps & hills, deserts & cities, seashores & villages. Pulling out of a Metro station two days ago, I saw a woman wearing-- my sandals! (Or close.) Where, where? Did you get them? OK, I thought-yelled it. I do not believe they exist in this world--now--for less than $500 dollars. I don't remember where I bought them (a dust storm was kicking up), but they were in a half-smashed cardboard box. I searched for a left & then a right, paid, & left wearing them, running from that storm. So many people asked me about those sandals. They served me well. Until one day, a cobbler said Not even I, Signorina, can mend these. You must say good-bye. I know it is hard. Much history, yes?
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