Boston is a pretty conservative kind of town.
We favor old school to new school thinking, tradition over modernity and pearls to funky links. We generally take that same approach to fashion–think Burberry, Brooks Brothers and JCrew.
My clothing choices tend to either be bohemian, athletic or sexy, so typically, I avoid Brooks Brothers, preferring to leave it to the many investment bankers who probably need more retail therapy right now than even I.
So when I found myself in Brooks Brothers helping my husband pick out clothes for his new job, I was slightly amused. Between the plaid, knee-length skirt and the argyle sweater sets, I was convinced I’d stumbled into the closet of someone’s ninety-year-old aunt Mildred. Or Barbara Bush’s.
As I stifled the yawns that come with man-shopping, I perused the shoe section. And what I found nothing short of stunned me:
How were these in Brooks Brothers? They are so sexy. So chic. So un-Babs I could scarcely believe it. And even better?
They were marked down 80 percent (!!)
I had to have them, but, of course, I also had to pretend like this shopping trip was about my husband (is any, really?)
I played it cool, gave him some tie advice, brought some pants to the fitting room. And then I sprung my find upon him.
“I happened to see these while you were trying on your fourteenth pair of blue wool pants,” I explained. “It was when I was looking for the next size up.”
He nodded suspicously, but my man knows a bargain when he sees one. And so these babies were to be mine.
Except for the size. Alas, my days of cramming my feet into shoes too small have passed.
But I know for some lucky blueblooded member of an American dynasty, these shoes will allow her to walk on the wild side–all for a fraction of doing something REALLY wild (like dating a Kennedy.)