Over time, the canvas has been no match for my wide feet. They've put up a good fight, though. Although they're now sufficiently ventilated, there's a small piece of fabric holding one side of the right shoe together. It's the difference between a sneaker and a flip flop. So, during my recent holiday road trip, when my aunt took me to the Citadel Outlets in Southern California for a little Mall Madness, I stopped in at the Converse store to see if I could tempt myself into a new pair.
I've always worn black, but was thinking it was time for a new look. The black will always be classic, but I had my heart set on something different. The white ones looked good, but would have been too jarring of a change. "What about navy?" my aunt asked. I tried those on, walked around some, and was sold. She then grabbed the shoebox and proceeded to the register.
As we (read: she) went to pay, I told her, "You know, you just bought me a gift I'll put to good use over the next decade." She laughed. I think she thought I was kidding.
***
Altogether, we spent five hours at the outlet shops. At each store, I found an item or two I wanted to treat myself to. But against my protests, she snatched them out of my hands each time. Holding out her credit card, her consistent response was, "I get points." That's great, but you still have to pay for all of this. Too bad there wasn't an Apple Store...
I know she loves and misses me and genuinely enjoyed practically treating me to a new wardrobe - and lunch! But like most of my extended family, I'll forever be seen as "Little Brian." And of course, I am a poor grad student. I did manage to lose her at Ann Taylor late in the afternoon to buy a few new shirts on my own dime. Then she bought me new pants. Sigh.
***
I haven't thrown the old black pair away. Yet.
