I work part-time as a shoe salesman at at high-end department store. I should mention it's women's shoes. It doesn't pay a ton, but it's nice to get a little something extra in my account every Friday and there are certain graces that
make it a worthy expenditure of time. Much of my shift is spent moving. I straighten shoes...a lot. But, of course, the obvious by-product of being out on the floor is that you get to sell some shoes and make money...and sometimes you get a story. Yesterday, one of my customers gave me a story.
The woman in question was still on the young side of her journey, though I've given up trying to guess ages in a world of cosmetic surgery. She was tall, nearly my height in the heels she was wearing, and dressed like a woman who goes shopping. Don't ask me to explain that...I just knew that I was going to be engaged for the next half hour or so. I enjoy these.
She had a couple of pumps in her hand...a paten-leather Michael Koors and a suede pair of Calvin Kliens. She is an 8 1/2. I went to the back to get her shoes while she went to the boot table. The boots are on the far-side of the department...more boots that look nearly identical than I have time to explain here. She saw me returning with the shoes that caught her eye earlier and we met in front of the Coach table when I heard the sound that salesman wait to hear:
oooooooooohhh!
She picked up a pair of Coach boots. Admittedly, a beautiful pair of boots. There are certain designers that can take a basic design, such as a black boot, and add just enough of their signature that you realize you are seeing a different kind of thing
She picked the boots and, what inevitably happens, turned them over to be stunned by the price.
"Why are these boots $400"
"They are Coach" was the only honest reply.
She began with, what I think would be the wise move, and put them down. The problem was simply that she kept looking at them. I brought out alternatives...but she had already seen the Coach. It's hard to un-see what you have seen.
There is a truth in life that once you have seen something you want...it's hard to stop wanting it or be satisfied with anything else.
Unless...
She kept glancing up at the boots till finally I said: "Listen, think of this as merely an opportunity to put them on. Shall I bring out an 8 1/2?
I brought out the boots.
Her eyes lit as I opened the vanilla colored box with the classic coach insignia in gold on the top. She held the boots in her hand, her eyes taking in the gold detailing and the classic Coach "c". She nervously pulled the boots on and walked over to the mirror.
They looked terrible.
Well, terrible might be strong. They just didn't look like her. On the shelf they were a work of art...but they didn't compliment her.
They didn't fit.
I was thinking today about my life. I'm at a place now where I've had to say goodbye to so much that I had and am having to embrace a whole new world. I considered how many of the things that I've lost we're things I fought so hard to keep. They were things I thought were fantastic. They were things that, regardless of how shiny, just didn't fit. I'm now in a place of sliding on new boots and finding what fits me, what makes sense
I remember when I bought the cowboy boots I now own. I had my eye on a different pair...one that my son actually ended up with. The ones I wanted were dusty looking, like something Clint Eastwood would wear.
They didn't fit.
I slid on this pair of brown boots...more stitching then I really wanted. A bit more Roy Rogers than Clint Eastwood. But, at the end of the day, they were the boots that fit.
I wear them a lot.
We can work hard trying to obtain the things that we think we want...and spend crazy amounts on it. Or, we can take the time, know ourselves, and find the life that fits; the life that makes our heart sing.
It might not be the one that first caught our eye...but it will be the right one.
And it will last forever.
And by the way...she bought a great pair of Ivanka Trumps that looked great and fit her like they were made for her.
Blessings
make it a worthy expenditure of time. Much of my shift is spent moving. I straighten shoes...a lot. But, of course, the obvious by-product of being out on the floor is that you get to sell some shoes and make money...and sometimes you get a story. Yesterday, one of my customers gave me a story.
The woman in question was still on the young side of her journey, though I've given up trying to guess ages in a world of cosmetic surgery. She was tall, nearly my height in the heels she was wearing, and dressed like a woman who goes shopping. Don't ask me to explain that...I just knew that I was going to be engaged for the next half hour or so. I enjoy these.
She had a couple of pumps in her hand...a paten-leather Michael Koors and a suede pair of Calvin Kliens. She is an 8 1/2. I went to the back to get her shoes while she went to the boot table. The boots are on the far-side of the department...more boots that look nearly identical than I have time to explain here. She saw me returning with the shoes that caught her eye earlier and we met in front of the Coach table when I heard the sound that salesman wait to hear:
oooooooooohhh!
She picked up a pair of Coach boots. Admittedly, a beautiful pair of boots. There are certain designers that can take a basic design, such as a black boot, and add just enough of their signature that you realize you are seeing a different kind of thing
She picked the boots and, what inevitably happens, turned them over to be stunned by the price.
"Why are these boots $400"
"They are Coach" was the only honest reply.
She began with, what I think would be the wise move, and put them down. The problem was simply that she kept looking at them. I brought out alternatives...but she had already seen the Coach. It's hard to un-see what you have seen.
There is a truth in life that once you have seen something you want...it's hard to stop wanting it or be satisfied with anything else.
Unless...
She kept glancing up at the boots till finally I said: "Listen, think of this as merely an opportunity to put them on. Shall I bring out an 8 1/2?
I brought out the boots.
Her eyes lit as I opened the vanilla colored box with the classic coach insignia in gold on the top. She held the boots in her hand, her eyes taking in the gold detailing and the classic Coach "c". She nervously pulled the boots on and walked over to the mirror.
They looked terrible.
Well, terrible might be strong. They just didn't look like her. On the shelf they were a work of art...but they didn't compliment her.
They didn't fit.
I was thinking today about my life. I'm at a place now where I've had to say goodbye to so much that I had and am having to embrace a whole new world. I considered how many of the things that I've lost we're things I fought so hard to keep. They were things I thought were fantastic. They were things that, regardless of how shiny, just didn't fit. I'm now in a place of sliding on new boots and finding what fits me, what makes sense
I remember when I bought the cowboy boots I now own. I had my eye on a different pair...one that my son actually ended up with. The ones I wanted were dusty looking, like something Clint Eastwood would wear.
They didn't fit.
I slid on this pair of brown boots...more stitching then I really wanted. A bit more Roy Rogers than Clint Eastwood. But, at the end of the day, they were the boots that fit.
I wear them a lot.
We can work hard trying to obtain the things that we think we want...and spend crazy amounts on it. Or, we can take the time, know ourselves, and find the life that fits; the life that makes our heart sing.
It might not be the one that first caught our eye...but it will be the right one.
And it will last forever.
And by the way...she bought a great pair of Ivanka Trumps that looked great and fit her like they were made for her.
Blessings
