Saturday I saw two pairs that I adored--two fanciful pairs of ballet flats, all kid-glove leather and wrapped satin and jeweled and fairy-footed.
But as gossamer wings are not my usual accessory, said fairy slippers will remain in my imaginative realm. I didn't even try them on.
But I also didn't try them on because I wanted to cultivate my fantasy that Vera Wang flats are the most ethereally perfect shoes possible. For my fear is that in reality they have a very narrow cut.
Chastizing lesson: Remember these "perfect" ballerinas from last summer?
But how I loved them when "I did not have them"--that wonderful state of yearning long before the disillusioned state of "I do not have them because I cannot wear them."
So with the Vera Wang fairy flats, I am reminding myself to nurture the desire, because sometimes desiring is much, much more satisfying than having.
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Was just desiring this evening, imagining that through a few clicks I could have all Santa forgot. Then I panned through my closet, and thoughts turned to all that had been desire, yet are now - sigh - just attire. Oh heavens, desire is *so* much better.
Tomorrow, I will shop.
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