Shopping in Europe: A Generation Removed

I don’t think that it’s important if or when I spend money or even how much is spent. What is important is that I am satisfied with what the money was spent on. Hit and miss, really. Sometimes, I can look at a purchase for years and revel in the warmth of realized opportunity and then there are the times that I would rather stick knives in my eyes than look at some horrific mistake that I can’t possibly get rid of because of the money I’ve spent on it.

Enter, stage left, the red gingham high heeled shoes.

 

Of course I didn’t buy these myself! Give your head a shake! I did, however indirectly, pay for them.

My daughter has just returned from Europe; school trip that I have been paying off for a year. My parents sent me to Europe in my high school glory days and I still look fondly at the pictures of my friends standing in front of various statues, fountains, gardens and duomos. Taryn forgot her brand new digital camera in the Jeep before she left. At this moment, beyond the lid of my laptop, I can still appreciate the beautiful 8-piece decanter set made with Venetian glass, hand painted and topped with 24 kt gold leaf that I purchased in Venice and carefully packed and brought back to Canada.  It has made at least 8 moves with me since 1984 and it is as stunning as the day I bought it.

Taryn bought red gingham high-heeled shoes. My Little Baby Prostitute. I try to be a good parent. The first time I saw her making her way across the kitchen in denim Capri pants and a giraffe-like gait, I blew coffee out my nose. Told her that I was just choking for a second after I regained my composure and told her that she looked fabulous.

This morning I told her that I wanted to take some pictures of them. *giggle* She strutted, she posed and then her face darkened and she asked me suspiciously, “You’re not going to try to sell these on Ebay, are you?”

Oh no, My Sweet Princess, not a chance of that.