When I accepted a position to teach English in Georgia, my life was ideal on paper. I had friends and a full time job in a city I didn’t mind, with a Chipotle right around the corner from my reasonably priced apartment. Everything was fairly good, but there was no sparkle. I refused to settle. I had a healthy savings account and the teaching position provided room, board, transportation, a monthly stipend, and the opportunity to gain teaching experience to the benefit of my career. I threw caution and reason to the wind and embarked on my adventure, fearless, naïve, and blissfully happy.
Their actual value was probably about right, as they were a generic design made from a synthetic material with unremarkable quality. They lasted much longer than they probably should have, and longer than any pair I’ve had since. I still refuse to pay more than sixty dollars for any pair of shoes (do you know what has been on that sidewalk?!) but these remain the best attire investment I have ever made, and I can confidently say they were worth more to me than every other piece of my wardrobe combined.
Let’s play a game where we try to guess what everyday household items cost. You know, things you should know the price of, things our parents know the price of, but for some reason we have absolutely no idea. Is it a generational thing? A geographic thing? Can we blame the internet? Or maybe I am just an idiot. Only one way to find out.