The Tipping Point

Once again, it is time for the Carnivale, and this week it is hosted by Style Tribe (whose motto I completely agree with: "Fashion is buying, style is being"). The question:

"For this week's Carnivale of Couture, I want to celebrate our role as bloggers. What distinguishes us from fashion press is our lack of limits: we can express as we please, and our unique personalities make us more interesting rather than less professional.

To that end, I want to invite everyone to write about their most significant fashion purchase. Not the most expensive or most exciting,but the one that was somehow pivotal, or meaningful to you personally."

Like many of my fellow fashionistas, I've done my share of shopping. However, there a few memorable pieces like my leopard print coat, my gorgeous deep red leather carry-all, or my leopard print pumps (see the pattern here?) that have stuck with me. One particular item, though, was not just a purchase, but sort of a tipping point. It was my first pair of high heels.

They were not particularly stylish, sexy or fashionable (c'mon, I was in the sixth grade and I had to beg my mother to let me have them). It didn't matter. The chunky heeled loafer made from simple black leather still had the transformative power that was necessary. My posture got better and I developed that self-assured, confident gait that only comes from a great pair of heels. Also, like many other women, I decided that those extra three inches of height were sometimes worth a little pain at the end of the day.

Here's what the shoes looked like; they were very sensible, even for heels. (Note: I can't find the exact shoes, but these are pretty close). But to my sixth-grader self, they were the most stylish shoes in the world, and that's all that mattered.