Let's Get Some Shoes!

After just two daily doses of the Sartorialist, I could no longer resist my overwhelming urge to acquire more artfully arranged pieces of fabric and leather, so I hopped on a cab (likely to be older than I am) and headed for the central shopping district of the purported fashion capital of China. My mission (not only for today but for the rest of China)- the following items:

- Dark brown leather sandals with enough heel to wear with long pants and enough spark to wear with a skirt.
- Summery dresses in orange or seafoam green, both of which go surprisingly well with my skin tone, as I only recently discovered.
- Shirt-dress with fine detail in a not too bland color.
- Interesting tops. I own far too many skirts.
- Red shoes, pointy toed, moderately high hells, preferably with some interesting but !(shiny || chunky) detail.

I've never understood how clothing retailers manage to make a profit during their non-weekend, daytime hours. I see how retailers must stay open during the day, but where do they get their customers when everyone is at work? In America, there exists a sizable supply of idle housewives as potential customers. In China, where the concept of a housewife is even more foreign than the concept of a proper queue when waiting for services, who goes shopping during the day?

Tourists, perhaps? Students, when they're on vacation? It's not even summer vacation here, and there were plenty of student-looking people in the underground shopping center that I first visited. Unsatisfied with most of the offerings there, I headed off to le plus chic et le plus cher department store that I could find in the same plaza.

The place was filled with powdered, painted, and/or plastic women elevated up to 10 cm above the ground fluttering about various vendors. Every time I see a female who exceeds me vertically, I instinctively look down at her shoes and derive, more often than not, a small, smug sense of satisfaction at seeing the source of her simulated supermodel stature. After an afternoon of navigation through such crowds and far too many overzealous salespeople than I cared to count, I settled in the Starbucks of the mall to rest my feet and to jot down snippets of this entry that occurred to me throughout the day.

At Starbucks, I strategically situated myself on a comfortable sofa next to a pair of English-speakers, who seemed to be discussing software. After a few minutes, during which time I saw a familiar looking girl in a white dress and navy hat settle into a seat not too far from me, I went up to one of them and started conversation. It turned out that this duo is the father and twin of a Nigel the Canadian that I had met at English Corner (weekly event at DUT where masses gather to speak English) last Saturday. A short while later, Nigel came back with his mom, and I chatted with the twins over my red bean frappuccino about MIT, Queens College in Canada, and Berkeley.

About an hour into our conversation, I had to use the restroom. Upon getting up and turning around, I realized that the familiar looking girl in the white dress and navy hat was in fact who I thought she looked like when she arrived. I also realized that the familiar looking girl in the white dress and navy hat (Lili, I think her name is) was, in fact, on a date with my teammate Ben. Shit. Ben had mentioned something about meeting her at Starbucks. With so many Starbucks (even in China), what are the chances of us running into each other at the same one? Oops.

After returning from my excursion, I saw that Ben and his lady friend had left. Soon after, I parted ways with my new friends and returned home with my spoils for the day:

- Dark brown leather sandals with enough heel to wear with long pants and enough spark to wear with a skirt.
- Black flat sandals that happened to match my brass rat when I tried them on.
- Turquoise shirt with interesting drape and faux buttons at the front to not require a necklace.
- Navy and gray shirt with horizontal, yes, horizontal stripes.
- Gray shorts with ample pockets that matches above shirt. My first and only pair of shorts in years.

I would have posted pictures had my legs not been horribly mutilated by a gross of gross mosquito bites accumulated over nights of the past fortnight of which at least a dozen are still present and festering. Yes, I realize this is supposedly a photoblog. Go look at some past entries. I've probably bored you enough with this dose of fashion and frivolousness.