Years ago I read the Joanne Harris story, “Lollipop shoes”. I was a teen aged girl when I first read it, and I loved it. I was so taken with the simple magic in that story. I was so taken with the shoes!
The idea of these magical red shoes. It was a throwback even to earlier childhood stories, where Dorothy was magically transported home from the land of OZ by the clicking her magic shoes together three times. Magical Red shoes.
In the back of my mind I held the idea that I wanted a pair of Lollipop shoes. All my adult life there was a small girl in me (and a day dreaming teen) who was on the lookout for the perfect Lollipop / magical / Dorothy / Cinderella shoes. Red ones.
But i am decidedly fussy with foot wear. I will wear the same tired old pair of shoes for years rather than buy something I don’t like. My favourite shoes of all time are my trusty old Converse All stars, and it takes a lot to come close to those in coolness value, even for red high heels.
But then! A few weeks ago, maybe even two months ago, I spotted them.
The Lollipop shoes!
The perfect Lollipop shoes. Elegant heel, but not scary thin. Red, but blood red, not orangey, not fire engine and not old lady red. Rounded toe, no yucky points. Mary Jane strap. Oh My Word! I fell in love, on the spot.
I wanted them, I needed them, I deserved them! But they were just far too expensive.
I wanted to cry. I felt cheated. It was almost as unfair as being left stranded when I had a six year old and an eight week old baby. It really was. How could the universe create something out of my imagination, out of my personal catalogue of dream items I may never find, put it right where I can see it, and then make them too expensive? It was just sad.
I thought about them the way you think about that crush you are brooding on as a teen, the one who will never notice that you exist in a thousand years but you can’t stop. You dream about him and wake up crying. That is how I felt about these shoes. Beautiful, shiny Red Lollipop shoes.
Ever going to have an opportunity to wear them? Maybe never.
But. I . Wanted. Them. So . Bad!
However I don’t dwell on things that make me sad so I forgot about them, put them out of my mind, made the decision to leave them alone and stop visiting them in the shop, just to look at them.
Then, it happened! I passed by the shop in question on some other errand for work, and looked at the display out of habit, and they were gone. I sighed, knew I had to move on, but felt marginally heartbroken. As I dropped my gaze though, I saw the unthinkable. They had been marked down, to half price! And they only had my size.
I didn’t even think about it.
I took out my store credit card, smiled sweetly at the assistant, and brought them home wrapped in tissue paper, In a lovely white box, in a big silver bag.
I thought about how normally I would squirm at spending money on myself when my kids have lists of things that they are growing out of. I never do it. But you know what? I don’t even feel guilty.
They wanted to be mine. My Lollipop shoes.
It was just meant to be.