If the Shoe Fits

When I was working, I had a closet full of great work clothes. I bought quality, not quantity and think I did a decent job of building up a professional wardrobe that carried me through a myriad of situations. And of course there were the shoes.

It's always been difficult for me to justify spending money on clothes, accessories, me. But when I was earning money, it was certainly a lot easier than it is now.

Now, particularly with the constant economic Armageddon news stories following me everywhere I go, it's a constant source of guilt. Granted, I don't need to have a closet full of mix and match items that can be dressed up or down anymore. A few Old Navy t-shirts and a cute skirt from H&M are about all I need to get through summer.

But shoes. Oh my. I can't even remember the last time I bought a pair of shoes (oh wait, I think it was these). And I desperately need a cute pair of sneaks for the summer. A pair that goes equally well with the tan shorts and white T as the white eyelet A-line skirt and navy T. The pair that goes to the playground, the grocery store, the ball game and the zoo.

I used to struggle with spending too much on a pair of heels that maybe only worked with two outfits. I have to admit, of the times I took a risk on a pair, I don't think I ever regretted the purchase in the long run. Now, I'm struggling with how much to spend on a pair of shoes I'll probably wear every day between April and October. Seriously. I should not be this concerned. I should be able to just buy them. I didn't even pause when I bought peanut two pairs of sneakers last week to get him through the summer. Didn't pause when I picked up shorts and shirts for him. But me? Apparently, I'm still having a hard time, two years later, with this single-salary-household concept. Especially when it feels like the financial world is collapsing around us and I'm just waiting for the trickle down effect to hit our door step.

This recession is a total downer to my shoe high.