Platonism as applied to accessories: A photo essay, Part 1 of 3

Not long ago, I posted two pictures of some shoes I had bought and was thinking of returning. In the accompanying text, I explained the frustrations that stem from my constant efforts to find the Platonic Shoe--particularly since I must conduct my quest on (ahem) a shoestring budget. (Sorry: I am rather loopy tonight and couldn't resist.)

The trouble is that the Platonic Ideals of Beauty, Wearability, and Value so rarely come together in one shoebox.

For example, the pair depicted here are my prettiest shoes. Of the shoes I own, they most nearly approximate the Platonic Ideal of Shoe Beauty. Other people never fail to recognize this quality; they will stop me on the street to exclaim over them. I know for a fact that one hiring committee was so impressed by these shoes that they discussed them after I finished my interview and left the room. In fact, although this is a truly crappy picture, I know you cannot deny the beauty of these shoes, which shines through despite the blurry, badly lit photo quality and the appalling state of my apartment's carpet.

They are also some of my most expensive shoes, however, which may call into question their ranking on the Value scale. They're Coach, and I got them at a bargain for $70, which was still an immense splurge on my budget. Perhaps this is the price one must pay for approaching so close to the Platonic Ideal of Beauty.

Unfortunately, yet another tarriff on Beauty, in this case, is taken from the category of Wearability. For these shoes, what with the uncovered grommets through which that dainty little ribbon passes on its way to becoming a dainty little bow, tend to make very un-dainty holes in the skin of my pinky toes and leave marks on the other toes that last for a couple of days after a moderate amount of walking.