Covetworthy

Her iPhone? Orphaned on the Starbucks counter in a sea of discarded Splendas.  Directions to the restaurant where you’re having your much-ballyhooed girls’ night? Still sitting in her printer. Remembering that girls’ night is tonight?  Only after your two emails and urgent voicemail.

You’re the Friend of a Forgetter. You’re always there to remind, remember and even rescue, depending on the circumstances. Krazy Glue couldn’t make vital information stick to her. This is a tried and true friend, who absolutely would be there for you in your time of need if she could only recall what you needed. Plus she’s sweet as pie, which makes your secret desire to kill her all the more tragic.

So the next time you have to buy her something, forgo the journals and the Franklin Coveys and the electronic organizers – all blatant hints to curb her scattiness – and give her something she’ll want to remember like the Forget Me Knot ring by Kiel Mead.  It’s a simple and subtle gesture that lets her know you know her well and love her anyway.

Sentimentality + practicality = perfection at gift time. I can’t promise that she’ll never forget your birthday again, but at least she’ll remember why she owes you big time.

This year is barely one month old, and yet 2010 presents me with a question for the ages: exactly how much pain can I endure from a shoe?

Don’t answer in haste. You need to know the details first. This is not just a shoe. It is The Most Beautiful Shoe in the World.  It stretches my leg to amazonian heights. Adds some potent swish to my stride. This is SuperShoe – able to leap cryptic dress codes in a single bound. (“Festive Formal Chic”? “Creative Corporate Cool”? Foiled!)

How did I happen upon SuperShoe?  It happened two days ago when I came face to face with a familiar foe – the Macy’s designer shoe sale. (Shoe sales are my Kryptonite. I am utterly powerless in their midst.)  In one 45-minute frenzy, I tried on fourteen pairs of shoes. Calling on the fortitude of the ancestors, I settled on two.  Both impossibly high heels that make my calves go on for millennia. (Nevermind that one pair is a full size too small.)  These shoes can be reached from now on at the following address: Stacey’s Closet, Bad Ass Division, Cubby 1 and Cubby 2.

And suddenly as I was making my exit, she called out to me from her perch high atop a hidden rack. SuperShoe is lavender (my favorite) with black piping, satin finish with a tiny bow (so femme), a 5-inch heel. And a hefty FIFTY PERCENT OFF discount to boot. Boo-yah!

So what kind of pain are we talking about here? On a scale of 1 being pebble-in-your-sock-irritation and 10 as Chinese foot binding, it’s about a 4.5. But that’s just walking around the marshallowy carpet in the store. What happens when I take Baby Doll out in my hardwood, concrete and unevenly-paved ‘hood?  *Sigh*

But…she’s just so pretty.  There’s not another in my life like SuperShoe. She deserves a permanent home befitting the lifestyle for which she was so lovingly created. And Cubby 3 is vacant. What to do????