There is a lovely second-hand store on the corner of the same block as my office. It is perfectly situated for window-shopping. Literally. It’s right on the corner, with big windows that run the length of both street-facing sides. The owner makes wonderful use of said windows, changing out the items on the shelves that run along the same walls. The windows that look out on King Street (the main drag through Old Town) are the most seasonally focused (though, at the moment, they have some creepy puppets). The side that faces the other street is always filled with a nice assortment of hodge-podge…currently, there is a pitcher in the shape of a frog, another one that looks like a basket, a lamp made out of an old projector, some fiesta ware, a tiny carousel horse, and many other neat things.

Inside the store, the main floor used to be filled to overstuffed with large furniture. You could pick up a 1980s headboard, an old schoolhouse desk/chair combo from the 1920s, or a cobblers bench from the 1880s. They are working on moving most of the larger pieces to their second store, in Kensington, MD but I imagine they will keep some pieces at the King Street shop.

I don’t go into the shop each week, but I do try to go in every few months, just to have a look around. Sometimes I find something, and sometimes I don’t.

Today, as I wandered past on my walk to the office, a little voice nagged at the back of my mind: “Go to the shop today.”

I spotted a blue and white flecked tea pot just inside that was beautiful (and $6), but that’s not where I felt led. I walked to the back of the shop, climbed the stairs to the second floor (where the clothes/shoes/fabric is set out), and stopped at the first shoe shelves. There, on the shelf at my eye level (shorter than most people) was a pair of shoes that was the exact style I’ve been looking for.

A pair of Oxford-style heels that can pass casually for several different eras. They have very little wear on the inside and just a tad bit on the very back of the bottom of the heel. The heels are sturdy and not too tall (I can’t do high, spiked heels, which is usually what I find). Priced at $20. And they are my size.

That last one never happens. Such is the pitfall of having tiny feet.

Of course I snapped them up. I’m going to wear them this weekend at Ravencon, with my Hufflepuff dress.