Breaking in shoes, & broken mirrors
Last weekend in between bouts of rain, I took my new (technically preloved, so new to me) heeled loafers out for a walk around my neighbourhood so that we could get acquainted. The idea was that once we were a little friendlier with one another, the loafers might not rub twenty cent coin sized blisters onto my heels, leaving me only appreciative thoughts about the thick cream stitching, oxblood coloured leather, and beautifully proportioned high and chunky wooden heels.
Turning onto my street, heading home, I caught a glimpse of them in a cracked mirror that was propped up rather forlornly against a telegraph pole, part of the refuse from a neighbour’s household purge.
I think it was the matching shades of brown that stopped me. Somehow, the heels of my new, much adored loafers and the ugly timber like laminate seemed to work together.
Beyond the initial aesthetic interest, I liked the idea of these two cast off objects together, one reflected in the other, even if just for the couple of moments that it took for me to snap the photographs. It was obvious that my preloved shoes had been well loved in a way that the mirror and board hadn’t, but at some stage, for whatever reason, the original owners of both objects had decided that these things no longer had a place in their lives, wardrobes, or homes.
I was doubtful that someone would see potential in the sad old mirror, looking every bit as though it just fell from the 1970s, in the way that I knew that I had to have these shoes as soon as I tried them on. There is something very sad about a cast off and broken object but I knew that beyond a couple of photographs this mirror and I would have no further dealings, so I left it by the road.
Walking past the same place the next day, I was surprised (and pleased) to see that my assumptions were entirely wrong and the broken mirror was orphaned no longer. Some brilliantly thrifty and creative soul had apparently seen something in it worth saving, beyond just an image, and carried it away overnight.
…
Shoes: Robert Clergerie, bought second hand from the lovely Erin at Dolly Up Vintage Emporium
Hosiery: ‘Vintage seam’, by FireHosiery
Great shoes! I’ve never been to Dolly Up – I may have to investigate!
I have this never-ending urge to save broken bits and pieces off the street. But after the bedbug saga of 2010 – I am suspicious and wary. No more stray furniture with shady pasts.
I highly recommend a trip to Dolly Up, it’s one of my absolute favourites – I found my wedding dress there.
Re: bed bugs – I’m really wary of cast off furniture for the same reason! We wound up with them at our last place after having a number of travellers in the house and they are unbearable.
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