imelda marcos

I should be able to post more frequently soon now that I have finished my move and am almost done sorting through my 10years of accumulated belongings.  The moving in process is sort of cathartic in an OCD sort of way. I’m constantly obsessing about my new decorating plans while I compulsively buy my way through Bed Bath & Beyond, TJMaxx, online wholesalers and Century 21.  I spend my days editing out unwanted items from my past while carefully selecting what to highlight and project into my future.  Because of my love for organization and disdain for clutter I can’t simply dump a box’s contents into a drawer.  I take inventory of my belongings before systematically figuring out an orderly plan and display method.
Right now, my latest project is that shoe closet I once shamelessly revealed on my blog.  I’m painting it fuschia, my color of the moment and I’m literally waiting for the paint to dry before I celebrate by adding my Imelda Marcos-like stiletto collection.  Moving in, settling in and decorating is my labor of love.


‘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…

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