The great shoe debate (and my most embarrassing confession yet)

Something happened yesterday which has me completely stunned and spinning in one of the freakiest shame-glee-confusion spirals I've ever known: I bought a pair of Manolo Blahniks. Which means I spent $675 on a single pair of shoes, which is something I swore I'd never do.

Now, to be fair, these aren't just any shoes, they're my wedding shoes. And, while we're having a really low-key, inexpensive celebration, I did want to wear something that made me feel special. But what terrifies me is JUST HOW SPECIAL I feel in these heels, how they make me feel more beautiful and glamorous and somehow better about myself every time I put them on (I've now taken them out of the box and worn them around the house about 37 times).

As many of you know from reading this blog, I'm a frugal shopper. I've always been grossed out by the concept of "shopaholism" and everything that surrounds it (material girls, shop-til-you-drop, "shoegasms," etc to pukefest infinity). To me, the idea that Carrie from Sex and the City is constantly broke because she just can't stop buying shoes (!) was always disturbing, not amusing or cute or relatable. In my mind, story lines like these demean women, they make us seem frivolous and irresponsible and ultimately, they can keep men from taking us seriously.

But this whole Manolo situation has changed my outlook a little. It reminds me of how I never understood when my friends were in relationships with abusive men. Then I dated one. And now I totally get it. I know how you get drawn in, how there's a big cinematic rush, how it all feels exciting and dangerous but controllable, until it's a full-blown unhealthy addiction.

Or another metaphor: By buying these shoes, I feel like I've tried crack.

I love them! I ashamed to say that I secretly enjoyed the whole process of buying them. And, honestly, now that I've had a taste, I would like 30 or 100 or a million more pairs. But I'm not going to become a cliché or ruin my life with debt just so my feet can look cute for a minute. There's that line in Steel Magnolias, "What separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize," but, really, what separates us from the animals--even we who love looking good in pretty things--is our ability to exercise self-control.