Ridiculously Expensive Designer Footwear: What Can We Learn From It?
September 23, 2006
The cover of this Tuesday’s Washington Post Business Section included an article celebrating the emergence of a class of DC professionals wearing $1,000+ pairs of high-end designer footwear, Taking a Stiletto To D.C.’s Drab Image: A Sensible-Pumps Town Develops Taste for Manolo and Jimmy. The story features Kira Lieberman, a 29-year-old political consultant, who owns 371 pairs of shoes and 25 pairs of boots. It showers attention on Charrisse Jordan, wife of Washington Wizards coach Eddie Jordan, who isn't bashful about posing for a picture among some of the 200 or so pairs of shoes she has at their Maryland home. (No estimate of how many additional pairs she keeps at their home in New Jersey.)
I have read this article several times, searching in vain for any indication that the author or the editor for whom she writes finds such gluttonous self-indulgence anything less than commendable. Instead we are told that “high-end designer shoes . . . symbolize all that is fabulous,” and that these women are doing a public service by “squashing the region’s stodgy reputation under their four-inch stilettos.” The author rationalizes buying $1,000+ pairs of shoes, pointing out that many purchasers “are repeat customers.” We need not worry: these women are not “forgoing rent and eating ramen to pay for their Prada pumps.”When confronted with such extravagant self-worship, I have to stop myself from slipping into an easy moral outrage. I have to stop myself from carrying on about the many impoverished children who could be fed, clothed and given medical care for the price of a single pair of Prada pumps. As I start to comment on another’s shortcomings, I am reminded of the need to look at myself.
If I may borrow from a letter written by the lay leaders of my local church:
Jesus tells us to “first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.” (Matthew 7:3-5.) [I] confess [my] own fault and sin . . . . [I] acknowledge [my] too ready energy when others’ faults are at issue, and self-indulgence when [my] own faults are implicated. [I] see [my] tendency to feature Biblical teaching convenient to [my] own [life], and to avoid the hard teachings that challenge and rebuke [me]. [I] ask God’s forgiveness for these and [my] other faults, and [I] pray for the grace to see [my] own faults and sins clearly, and the grace to receive correction from [those] whom God appoints to answer [my] prayer.
Letter to Bishop Lee from the Wardens of The Falls Church, October 4, 2005, at 7.
While I never have dumped $1,000 on a pair of shoes, let alone a pair I may wear only once, there is no doubt that I am guilty of material overindulgence in other ways. There is no doubt that I could help feed, clothe and medicate a number of impoverished children, without even making a significant sacrifice in lifestyle. Forget about the ridiculous “cadre of Washington area fashionistas” who are spending thousands of dollars on footwear. What more am I willing to do to love my neighbor?
Here’s one concrete step my wife and I have agreed to take: 30 Days of Nothing. For 30 days, we will buy nothing – nothing – but the necessities. Money saved during the month will go to charity. We haven’t distinguished between all of our needs and wants, but some guidelines seem clear: no books, no clothes, no coffee, no movies, no dining out, no toys and no processed foods. I believe we’ll learn a lot about ourselves and our materialistic tendencies, not only by living through the 30 days, but also by sincerely going through the process of separating our needs and wants. We have not yet decided when to undertake this project, but it will happen no later than the season of Lent in 2007. What about you? Are you up for 30 Days of Nothing?(Thanks to Martha Anderson at The Point for bringing 30 Days of Nothing to my attention.)



Comments
Ramsey, I applaud your plan to buy nothing but "necessities" for 30 days, but I do question one of the listed categories: books. If anything, I suggest cancelling cable for a month (surely much less a necessity than books). And, with all due respect to librarians, a library book is no substitute for those important books which should be ingested (i.e., marked up, underlined, marginalia added, etc.), and not just read. Maybe rather than a categorical denial of all books, you should restrict any purchases to those books which plausibly offer some opportunity for real growth, however defined (e.g., spirtual, educational, etc.), and leave the Stephen King novel for another time.
With that said, best wishes!
Posted by: Brock S. | October 10, 2006 12:03 PM
Brock, I hadn't thought of my DirecTV subscription, probably because I don't watch much television anymore. We gave away our large TV early this year, eliminated the frills of our satellite subscription, and limited the feed to one 13-inch set. Even so, I probably will conclude that I have to forego it that month.
Buying books really is more of a problem for me than watching TV, and it's not because I read garbage. I see an interesting reference to a book, decide I want to read it, and buy it right away, only to have it sit on my shelf for weeks or months at a time. (My "to read" pile is huge.) I have several like this I may never read. Rather than satisfy this desire for instant gratification, I really ought to practice patiently waiting to see if my "need" for a book persists.
This 30 Days of Nothing is going to be quite a learning experience.
Posted by: Ramsey Wilson | October 10, 2006 03:17 PM
I will admit to a similar problem with books. I can think of at least 10-15 books I have sitting in my office at home, begging to be read. I've often proposed a rule for myself that I would not buy any new books until I have completed the ones I have already bought (or at least read enough to know that I need not finish a particular title). Unfortunately, that rule has not stuck thus far. Maybe it's time to reinitiate it. . . . As for giving up TV, that would not be a problem for me except (and its a big "except") for UofM football games every fall Saturday.
Posted by: Brock S. | October 10, 2006 03:59 PM
You can do it, Brock. Buy no more books, until you've read what you've got. Sounds a little silly for us to suggest that doing so would deprive us in some material way. But I understand the difficulty.
Just this morning I was talking about 30 Days of Nothing with a couple of friends over breakfast. One related a story of a pastor who chuckled when reading the passage in Matthew about God taking care of all our needs. The pastor said he laughed, because "My wants have become my needs." I suspect that we all can relate to that sentiment on some level.
(Go Blue)
Posted by: Ramsey Wilson | October 10, 2006 08:22 PM