Korean Imelda Marcos?

‘So how many shoes DO you own?’  Several nosy friends have practically pinned me down trying to force me to answer this uncomfortably pointed question.  To their disappointment, I answer like a stubborn FBI agent who has just been asked to release volatile governmental information.  “It’s top secret.”

Maybe it’s because shoes will always look great on, no matter how much water I’ve retained.  Maybe it’s because they instantly create a sexier posture, stance, and attitude.  Maybe it’s because there are so many styles, colors, textures, and trends to choose from.  Maybe it’s a sign of a developing foot fetish.  Or maybe it’s simply because I’m an incurable fashionista who craves anything stylish.   Whatever the reason, I love shoes and I’m starting to feel like a Korean Imelda Marcos.

But unlike Imelda’s widely publicized shoe count, my inventory count is top secret even to myself.  Strangely enough, my shoes are separated from each other, sitting in mini-collections rather than one enormous shoe museum like Imelda’s grand displays.  Gathering them all together in one lump sum and counting them is something I don’t dare do.  My guilty conscience couldn’t take it.  From the 3,220 YouTube videos revealing personal shoe collections though it seems others don’t have a problem with it.

I’m guessing that unlike me with my overly-sensible parents, Imelda must have grown up with parents who lavished her every fashion whim, understood the value of frivolous fashion items and even considered them a fun investment.  I imagine that Imelda must’ve grown up with lots of praise and adoration concerning her beautiful and ever-growing shoe collection.  Instead, I grew up having to defend my every shoe purchase.  ‘Why do you need another pair of black shoes,” my parents would desperately ask (and contribute to years of haunting shoe-purchase-guilt).

With this upbringing, I’ve tried to appease both the ‘Buy the shoe’ and ‘Why do you need another pair?’ voices in my head by only buying shoes that I really and truly love (the type of shoes that I will go to sleep dreaming about if I don’t have) and even then, I buy only when they’re on sale so I can help silence the guilt with the high of the deal.  Of course, this little mind-trick has led me to where I am today.   view earlier post to see a glimpse of my shoe closet (these are just my stilettos)

Maybe one day, I’ll get up the nerve to uncover the total number of shoes currently housed in separate areas of my apartment.   If I do, my next task will be to come to terms with my growing clothing collection…

Fashion Fixation

Sure fashion week is frivolous but it is fun. It is my glorious chance to walk straight into the pages of a fashion magazine, sit near the editors I’ve followed in print, be within arms reach of the most famous models, offer real-time critiques straight off the runway and envelop myself in the glamour that is fashion.  I’ve been accused of having some sort of deranged, fashion fixation.

I admit, I’m a bit obsessed. I adore clothes, accessories, and shoes (as evidenced by my floor-to-ceiling shoe closet and overflowing wardrobe). So obviously the sound of a full week dedicated to showcasing, honoring and previewing fashion sounds exciting to me. I enjoy the week full of eye candy and as an event planner, I’m completely mesmerized by the production value of each runway show. Moreover, I’m inspired and endlessly fascinated by the people who design, who style and who wear fashion well. And I find myself enthralled with the entire makeover process – the transformation of the hair, the makeup, the wardrobe not to mention the magic that goes into showing off that one awe-inspiring look.

Right now though, I find myself in constant search for ways to validate what could be seen as an unnatural passion.  While “It’s my hobby” may alleviate the superficial undertones of my focus, it doesn’t quite encompass the way in which it is in actuality a necessary component of my life. While “I’m a visual person” is true, it doesn’t explain the focus on fashion. And while “it’s a girl-thing..you just don’t understand” sometimes works as my lazy way out of the discussion it never fully satisfies.

How do you legitimize YOUR passion for fashion? If you had to take out work from the explanation how might you explain yourself?

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