The Point of Being Pretty

Sometimes the whole point is prettiness itself. These silk slippers, backed with rich green velvet and adorned with silk flowers and tassels of ribbon, serve no other purpose than to look beautiful. They are not designed to withstand bad weather or even a bed of smooth gravel. They are not made to provide exceptional warmth or a way of warding off a winter. They are not meant to tread work-horse-like through a day at the office. Instead, their point and purpose is to look pretty – and in looking pretty, to bring about joy and happiness.

There is power in such prettiness.

Fortitude in beauty.

Currency in attractiveness.

I’m not saying it’s right, merely that it’s there.

It happens to be so.

As for these slippers, they were a gift to myself, as so many things are.

I found them in a gift shop in Ogunquit the last time we were there.

Andy has never cared a whit what I put on my feet, so the only person who has seen their glory thus far is myself. If the point is prettiness, what happens here? Or does prettiness not depend upon being seen? That is the real question at hand: can something be pretty if no one ever sees it?

I believe hearts are like that. Souls, too.

The important things.

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