A thing of beauty lasts forever

I met this Manolo Blahnik, satin D'Orsay pump at Bergdorf Goodman on 5th Avenue in New York city less than a week ago... I meandered around the store, looking, salivating a little. The associates were quite nice and helpful but quickly and rightfully assumed I was not a "buyer" but merely a poor out-of-towner. When I made my way to the shoe corner of the store I nearly fainted. I had never been in the presence of so many of them. There were Manolo's, Loubitan's, McCartney's, Prada's, etc... They were EVERYWHERE! At first I was afraid to even touch them. After all I've been admiring the likes of these masters since the early 90's (except Stella of course - she didn't come along until the late 90's). Then I noticed a couple of women "man handling" the shoes as if they were at a damned Pay Less! "I like these, they're $785. But I don't know..." the gray clad lady said as she shoved the shoe lovelessly back on the shelf. I wanted to tackle her and ask her why she thought she could treat them that way? Why weren't they special and beautiful to her I wondered? For the same reason some people merely 'collect' VanGoh's I suppose. They don't really care about the quality, suffering or artistry behind the beauty they encounter. They can simply afford to disregard the craftsmanship, I suppose somehow believing their money is better than the splendid talent before them. But I know better. I know that money doesn't make up for beauty. It can't buy it either. I knew there in that store for the first time in my life what it meant... that "beauty is in the eye of the beholder". Beauty is simply a vision, whether it be real or imagined. It is an ideal, an illusion, ungraspable. But when you're in its presence you know it. It is beholden to you.