If you asked someone what I'd most like to magically appear in front of me on a silver platter, they'd likely answer "shoes" or "chocolate." Friday afternoon, I got both.
My good friend Sarah and I were going for a late-afternoon catch up walk from our apartments down to Clarendon, when we saw a strange sight in the distance -- a gigantic truck, with glass walls. It appeared to be filled with ... was it ... yes! shoes! As we edged closer, we saw racks upon racks of glorious designer pumps - Kate Spade, Juicy Couture, Calvin Klein, Nine West and more ... it was the cheap-chic Marshalls rack of my dreams.
Relatively attractive men circled us with even more shoes on silver platter, offering us tempting coupons and chocolate. There was even a gigantic lipstick red high heel on a motorcycle.
Don't worry, at this point, we pinched ourselves. And then the magic words were uttered: "would you two like a foot massage?"
Normally I'm not one to disrobe in public, but this experience wouldn't allow itself to be passed. We each plunked down into a massage chair (you know, the $6K kind from Brookstone that you always want to try ... but don't because that would be disgusting after every other slob in the mall has done the same?) and settled in for a 15 minute session with individual therapists. Thank you, Chris, for soothing the pain of being cramped into three-inch heels for a week.
Now I've told this story to a few people (namely my mother and boyfriend) who both laughed and asked if I was dreaming. Let's be frank, I'd ask a friend the same thing. But I swear, it's true.
Look for a floating Marshall's shoe shop near you.
Caveat 1: You can't buy the shoes. They're glued in. Believe me, I tried.
Caveat 2: Most Marshalls aren't that good. But I did see a few pair that I'd tried on, and even one I'd bought earlier this season.
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