Dear Choo: (You know you love it when I call you by your pet name)
The Husband is on to us. I can no longer parade you around town or meet you in clandestine boutiques. I no longer care how many incentives you throw my way. The Husband is no longer buying into my “oh, this old thing?” routine.
You barely ever go on sale and let’s not discuss how you’re cutting into my slush fund. Yes, I know that we looked good together. You, on my feet, were all splendid and fabulous but I can’t afford to take you to all those lavish affairs anymore. You’re high maintenance and require too many accoutrements. It’s almost impossible to dress you down without looking like I tried too hard. Your demands on my time and money are bordering on the absurd and frankly, my interest now lay in another, less costly, pair of designers.
I know. Sigh. My love for you has lasted over a decade but all delicious things must come to an end. I’ve decided to start dating another name brand. I only tell you because I don’t want you to see me around town, pairing up with another sexy set of stilettos without informing you first. So, for now, I’m calling it quits. No, no…I don’t need your new flyer to yet another flagship store. You no longer hold the same allure for me. When the economy improves, perhaps, mon ami, we can date again. But, until then lover, back in the box you go.