I had one of those finds in Salvation Army a couple of years ago, a brand new pair of slippers obviously donated by an unhappy Christmas giftee in January. The most gorgeous pair of slippers I’d ever seen at the remarkably high price (for Sally Anne I mean, get a grip!) of $5.00. I wore them night and day, they’ve travelled six times across Canada with me and once to Europe. The soles are so thick and good and strong I could walk outside, hell I could do work outside, climb up to my clothes-line stage, run across to the beach, pick up some fire/driftwood. The most serious pair (goodbye silly pink fluffies) I’d ever owned. In my life. Dark grey so they’d never show a scuff, some classy those slippers.
Last week, the heartbreak began. I was out in the bit of snow we had (subsequently gone) picking up the daily newspaper and my toes felt wet.
I sat down in front of the fire to examine the slippers. And there it was, a split between sole and upper. 730 days they’ve been worn. They owe me nothing. So much joy for .006849 cents (sorry, that’s the accountant in me) per day.
So in the past I would have put out word that hey, Mama needs a new pair of slippers for Xmas. But we don’t do Xmas anymore. And this was a bit of an emergency.
So today, I get these gorgeous sheepskins above, dark brown, warm as toast. Good, thick, no nonsense soles on ‘em. We won’t talk price it being a gift ‘n all, albeit to myself.
And this is it. I bring them home. I put them on. I admire them, my feet are toasty. And then I go to Grayzies, who’ve served me daily for all that time. I want to cry. I want to keep them, repair them, maybe bronze them, I know I can’t, maybe they’ve got another couple of weeks in them? How can I do this to them. Yes, I can. No, I can’t. Yes, I can. There, they’re in the garbage.
And so help me, two hours later and I so want to haul them out. And I do, to take this picture for posterity:
Looks like you can get some good-quality slippers in your neighbourhood. The ones for sale here seldom last longer than six months. Nothing like a nice cosy pair of slippers on a bitterly cold night. And my tip is: don't throw the old ones out until the day the bin is emptied, or retrieval is a constant temptation!
ReplyDeletenothing like a great pair of slippers
ReplyDeleteI wouldn't dare go out in the snow in my slippers. They're very comfortable and well worn in, but they're not waterproof. I love your new ones. They look just right. Why can't I find a pair like it here?
ReplyDeleteAwwww - yes, I know how you feel WWW! I always have difficulty finding comfortable, practical slippers, so when I do, like you I become attached. Your new brownies look good !
ReplyDeleteI love the photo of the old slippers. I bet they have a lot of stories to tell...
ReplyDeleteThere is something really beautiful with the old and used items.
PS: Word verification was "dumpee".... I must say that was quite funny considering the story! :)
A good waterproof glue and a couple of Cee clamps will restore them to their former glory. Good comfortable slippers like good friends are hard to come by.
ReplyDeleteMy oldest son as a toddler had an amazing pair of red slippers that he was dearly attached to. But he grew and the slippers did not. It was his first and very traumatic experience in giving up slippers. I don't know if he still remembers those red slippers, but I sure do, he fished them out of the garbage and tearfully attempted to fit them on his too-big feet way too many times for me to ever forget.
ReplyDeleteSlipper attachment, none of us outgrow it!
Slipper attachment is a very common syndrome - I was absolutely gutted when I had to throw mine away - but the stuffing was coming out of the toes and heels where the sole had come away. There is nothing like finding the *right* pair of slippers for you, that you look forward to putting on in the morning, particularly when it is cold outside!
ReplyDelete@Nick:
ReplyDeleteI think the coffee grounds poured on them this morning did the trick!
@Twain:
Can't be beat!
@GSW:
They were the last ones in the shop and I testdrove them into the garage and around the wet property today and they get a *****.
@T:
Thanks, they're luscious but not @Nevin:
LOL and yes they sure could talk but nothing too prurient. I only wish :>(
quite as good as Grayzies. Yet.
@GFB:
I should mail them to ya!!
@Annie:
Reminds me of daughter #2 and her cowboy jacket where the sleeves came down just to the elbows and she still wouldn't give it up!
@Jo:
Ah so now it's a syndrome, I sooooo like that!
XO
WWW
I thought I was the only one to feel like that about shoes and slippers.
ReplyDeleteOur feet are so important and need to be looked after with plenty of comfort. They may be able to replace hips.... but replacement feet are a long way off!