Feeling Bleu, November 4th

Hi, my name is Jen and I’m a fashion addict. There. I said what I said. I’m letting you into the mind of an obsessed shopper so save your judgements, s’il vous plaît. Why do I fall in love so quickly with shoes, coats, jewels, handbags, button downs, glitter, and sparkles? Like heart racingly enthusiastic, wide eyed and giddy? You, too? Let’s talk.

I did some research and the term fashionista applies to anyone with a passion for fashion. This includes followers, promoters, and designers of the latest and greatest and isn’t only limited to those who walk the runway. “Fashion enthusiasts often have a well-defined personal style and are not just followers of trends. They mix and match pieces to create their own unique looks. They also typically follow fashion news and are excited about new collections from their favorite designers.” So says Google. Finally! I feel so understood. I found my people. And clearly I’m in good company.

So my story of blue starts when I clicked a link from a strategically targeted email sent by a designer brand I covet that happens to have French origins. Evil geniuses I tell ya. While carelessly browsing the newbies on their website in search of absolutely nothing, I stumbled across these completely wild, futuristically mod motorcycle booties in an amazing monochromatic shade of Does Anything Really Match This Blue and fell madly and deeply in lust at first click.

My heart was a flurry from the heel, frame and leather being the same funky color. How unique! They offered the same style in black, which would have been wearable and practical… but so what? The blue were c’est magnifique! I later learned that that this retro-futuristic model was crafted from hand-colored calf leather and embellished with quilted and perforated details inspired by biker jackets. The patent Monogram-canvas back loop put them completely over the top ’cause when you know you know. The subtlety! And… are ya ready for this? This exact bootie closed out Nicolas Ghesquière’s 10th anniversary fashion show for Louis Vuitton. Ooo la la!

So after a Central Park walk the very next day, I dragged my friend Phyllis with me to their NYC flagship hoping I could see the genuine article up close and in person. My plan was to try them on, but prayed out loud they wouldn’t fit. Why? They were the very definition of a sensible shoe budget gone awry. (Imagine the worst.) They had one single pair left in my size. But no luck because once I slipped those bad boys on… mmmm. Like a glove of course. Ugh. They were chunky and powerful and strangely cool in an I-Can-Definitely-Justify-These-For-Business-Purposes way. Truly? They were just so me for high low pairing scenarios– these obviously being the pinnacle of fashionista fantasy and anything else I’d wear with them would be bargain basement by comparison. And I was ok with that. It was my own personal Cinderella moment.

Even the man next to me with his dog sleeping on his lap weighed in with a thumbs up. The woman sitting beside me on the couch was deciding between two supercool pairs of brown boots and interjected her approval as well. I wasn’t exactly taking a poll, but I was already smitten and the roar of the domestic crowd pushed me over the edge, Phyllis included. The kicker? Why buy here when abroad the prices are so much cheaper, right? Maybe. Phyllis asked how I’d feel if I waited and missed out. I hated to admit that I would indeed live, however wounded my shoe closet would be. C’mon. I get that they are just footwear. So I left the store empty handed to obsess over them at home.

I barreled through my front door after our expedition, hopped online and changed my location to none other than France. I already felt swanky as my heart pounded and the chase ensued. Two stores in Paris showed availability in my size. Deux pairs in Europe! LV has this amazing policy called Click and Collect, meaning that you can purchase them online, choose the store at which you’d like to pick up your package and they give you 30 days to collect them. So because I’m squarely in the window of less than 30 days until I’m Paris bound, it was a big hold your breath moment. I couldn’t type in my information fast enough. But since availability was so limited, they didn’t guarantee fulfillment. The store policy was seven days to locate the item or not, and then the client service team either confirms the purchase or refunds the amount charged. Waiting is both hell and exciting at the same time.

Because of the reduced European sticker price and VAT tax refund combo, buying them in Paris would save me a tidy sum, or so I thought. I asked Michael to translate my initial confirmation and he let me know that online purchases are actually exempt from the VAT tax refund. Merd! Wheels spinning in my tiny brain, my only thought was that I could pick them up, return them immediately and then buy them back? Would they allow that? I could say that the emailed notice was in French (true) and I was unaware of that policy (not true). I wouldn’t know until collection day.

I couldn’t keep this boot drama to myself. So I called my gal pal Sari who ooohed and ahhhed over both the shoe saga and the actual shoes. Then I of course told my bff Robyn, the OG Boot Queen of Pennsylvania. She loved them immediately, too. As the calendar crawled forward while they tried to secure my package, I was thinking that I must be truly insane to pine over a pair of boots. But I was feeling soooo blue. And because the VAT tax issue could become a sticking point (I wouldn’t know until they confirmed and I got them), I did the only rational thing an obsessed fan could do. I went back online, updated my location to New York and attempted to purchase them domestically.

I even selected the collection point to be New Jersey so that at least I wouldn’t pay the New York City sales tax. My brain was in overdrive. So when I ordered the second pair I found out that only five existed in the continental United States. More drama! Another seven day clock started for the New Jersey store to confirm the purchase or refund my money. Simultaneous multi-country, multi-currency countdowns were happening. I felt like a style sleuth. A dashing Nancy Drew!

The first store to ping success was actually New Jersey which was a shocker since Paris had a head start of two days to locate the boots. I logged into my account and refreshed my Paris page but the “order being processed” status had not changed. I was hoping for the next stage of “order being prepared” to populate so that I’d be assured of pickup. More nervousness consumed me. I trudged over to Jersey to collect the spare feeling defeated. Damn, they were special. But the whole experience was not. (No offense Jersey, but you just don’t have the panache of Paree.) I knew I would ultimately have to decide if they would be worth keeping if France fell through.

I staged a proper unboxing ceremony in my living room with French music playing in the background to set the mood, but my heart wasn’t really in it. I carefully slid the cover off the bulky square and unsheathed each boot from its cozy logo’d dust bag. I immediately held a little fashion show. They looked great with my long brown slinky skirt and paired well with an all black sweater and mini skirt combo. I loved them with navy pants and enjoyed the pop of color for an all cream ensemble. They were actually the perfect accent to everything in my closet. I made the weighty decision to probably keep them if my international conquest fell through, but so far no news had been forthcoming.

Finally on day eleven armed with no new information and well beyond the designated fulfillment window, I decided to call client services. There appeared to be an error message on my client page. It was like my order was frozen! I spoke to a lovely woman who gave me some convoluted story about having to use an international credit card to secure the purchase. A whaaaat? As opposed to a domestic card? What did that even mean? Is that a thing? I wasn’t buying her explanation and asked to be transferred to a supervisor who swiftly logged into my account and noticed the issue. Shoutout to Nick.

Two days later, I got an all French email that I couldn’t decipher. I flipped a copy to Michael desperate for a quick translation. My blue heaven was indeed available for Click and Collect at the Saint-Germain des-Prés store. OMG. Yessssss!! It was a confirmation notice. I lovingly packed up the Jersey boots, heavy box included and hauled them into the NYC flagship where I originally tried them on to promptly return the backup. I couldn’t really afford one pair and felt immediately relieved knowing the credit was already in progress for the return on the second.

The French version of the store’s website declares a sold out style to be “exhausted”– a hilarious translation and certainly a sentiment that would have echoed the emotional failure of my Francophile shoe quest had I not scored the pair in Paris. My vision of cavorting around the Left Bank with my oversized obnoxious designer purchase was alive. Actually that’s not true. Dragging them onto the Metro would have been a total rookie move. Being a seasoned shopper I knew to ditch the heavy box and just kept the booties in shoe bags hidden in a nondescript shopping bag. Nobody needed to know what I was carrying.

Picking up the blue boots in Paris was magical. Trying them on in the country of origin– it was like a dream visit to the Mothership with a goody bag to go. It was worth the time, effort and nail biting excitement to wait it out with hopeful intentions. And yeah, I managed to finagle my way into the VAT tax refund. Did you even doubt me for a second?? Prancing out of the store I felt super cool taking a victory lap around Café de Flore and the 6th while grinning from ear to ear. Woohoo!