Of Shoes and Selfridge's

I've been venturing out into the city, hunting and gathering since we left most of our electronics behind and our sea shipment hasn't cleared customs yet. I'm not really big on shopping - I used to be, but not so much anymore. I'm not quite sure when the transition occurred but now the thought of hitting up Oxford Street kinda makes me wanna hurl.

During law school, my friend Katie got me a subscription to Vogue and Elle magazines for my birthday, and shopbop.com was one of my favorite websites to hit, which I did. Every day. This was supremely stupid for two reasons: 1. I was usually in class where I was supposed to be taking notes, not checking out the latest Look Book by Rag & Bone, and 2. I was a student = no income, and let me tell you friend, shopbop ain't cheap.

Anyway, now I clip coupons and count the grocery store as my new hotspot for shopping so having to buy J a new work bag and getting some shoes to wear out to a fancy dinner makes me want to shoot myself. Since guns aren't allowed in the UK, I dragged myself to Selfridge's on Oxford Street instead. It's a pretty fancy department store that's similar to Bloomingdale's/ Saks in the US, except it seems more hip and trendy. Much more in-your-face glitz and glamour. The makeup department is supposed to be one of the largest in Europe, and the smell of expensive girl kinda smacks you in the face when you first walk in.

Shopping in a different country can be disconcerting. You're not familiar with any of the brands, and so you have no idea whether you can afford it or not. Case in point: Marc by Marc Jacobs - affordable; Marc Jacobs - not so much. Selfridge's shoe department is quite small, and they mix up the more affordable brands along with the more expensive brands. So you'll pick up a shoe, and it'll be 90 pounds, and you'll be like, okay, I can buy this. And then you'll pick up the next shoe, and then it'll say 350 pounds. Whaaa??? In the States, they're very careful about separating the shoes that us poor plebs can afford from the expensive fantasy shoes that only a cast member of Sex and the City could buy. In fact, the Nordstrom in South Coast Plaza keeps them on an entirely different floor. So is this a move by Selfridge's to end the segregation by classes and to allow us poor folk to admire the quality handiwork of Jimmy Choo up close?

Long story short, J got a brand new bag, and I slinked out of there with my tail between my legs and shoeless. Jimmy Choo, go screw yourself, your shit aint' all that.