So... I'm online browsing for maternity wear, sending links to my best friend (who is a mere 10 days more pregnant than I) of uber cute formal dresses and shirts that accent our little wondrous upcoming bump and I find these shoes.
Mind you, I love Chuck Taylor. I got my first pair of "chuckies" when I was in eighth grade and I am sure they were the only things I wore. They were navy blue canvas and the most comfortable things to wear in those Midwestern summers in Milwaukee. I think it was later in high school when I got a pair that was plaid and made of wool. I loved them. I'm not sure one can love shoes, especially of the tennis-shoe variety, but these had affectionate attachments made to them. I wore them until holes had generated in the woolen fabric outside the shoe on the heels and outside my pinkie toes. Sadly, one day I washed them and that sweet wool shrunk right down to beyond my ability to wear them. With such a heavy heart, they finally were moved to my closet from the front doorway...never to see the light of day again.
My husband bought me a pair when we were dating. Dark brown canvas, smelling like fresh rubber and reminding of walking home from middle school with crunchy leaves underfoot. Unfortunately he overestimated my shoe size and had to be returned. I never got around to figuring out what my "boy" shoe size was so I could get another pair.
But fast forward and here I am searching on Gap Maternity and I come across these shoes. No laces, but stretchy elastic for those stubborn swelling pregnant feet. I'm in love. They are in autumnal colored canvas and that bright white that only back-to-school shoppers can love. I immediately jump onto the official Chuck Taylor website to find the shoe and what do you know? They are a Gap.com exclusive. Fair enough.
I send the link to Nic to which I'm sure during the duration of our relationship, the most casual footwear I have ever worn were my Birkenstock clogs that I wear occasionally when we are tromping around leaves in the fall and I know who has never seen me in a pair of "lo-tops", but I figured we were close enough to share such affections, comments: "aren't you kinda too chic for those?"
TOO CHIC FOR CHUCK TAYLOR SHOES?!
Can there be such a thing?