A thought on perfection

Today I dropped off 5 pairs of shoes that I had been hoarding for repairs. I get terribly attached to pretty things and when they are in need of repair, I hesitate to hand them over. The repairs I needed were minor but cost me more than a pair of new Charles David shoes. While I don’t mind spending that kind of money on good repairs, I get irritated when I feel that the job could have been better. The new rubber soles attached to my favorite pair of heels was cut slightly wobbly and the new heel caps on my suede boots are ever so slightly different sized from each other. No one would notice at first glance, but I feel the difference and I know. And… it bothers me. I mean really, does using a ruler to make sure the soles are cut straight a huge problem? And really, those heel caps could have just been sanded ever so slightly to be even. And really… a three minute polish job on the BCBG boots wouldn’t kill would it? I am willing to pay the obscene amount of money to have my favorite ponyhair pumps back on my feet, but I just don’t understand why people don’t strive for perfection. The gentleman that fixed my shoes was nice enough, but his work was less than stellar.

I wonder if perhaps that is the best he can do… or perhaps he just doesn’t notice the glaring mistakes I see. Either way, I’m disturbed by the lack of attention to detail. Perfection is in details.

 

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