Excuses can always be found for wise — and unwise — purchases
WHILE wishful thinking in an upmarket bike shop last week, I had an intense attraction for a bicycle shoe: Vegan leather, two-tone green and black with a tasteful streak of gold trim. They would look good the next time I have a cardiac arrest going up that long climb up from Dengkil town, Selangor, to Putrajaya, also known as “Bukit Bangang”.
There was no price tag on the shoes, but I know the cheapest bikes in the establishment are the same price as a small family car.
And no, it was not gold-plated, nor did it come with a free subscription to Spandex Times.
The shoes cost just shy of RM1,000. I can’t even wear them to dinner.
Now don’t get me wrong. I got into cycling to get out of the house during Covid-19. In the spectrum of the cycling world, I would be on the opposite end from the svelte, lycra-clad road racers speeding in packs at full gas in expensive kit. My early morning cycling crowds are more likely Bangladeshi guest workers on their way to furniture factories or something, pedalling with purpose on rehabilitated 90s-era mountain bikes, than the cool road bike gang.
I usually wear Bata sneakers to ride my bike to the nearest mamak in the mornings, so no matter how
I look at it, vegan leather cycling shoes were an indulgence.
To be honest, I was appalled at my bourgeois pretensions, but I tried on a pair anyway.
The shoes didn’t talk to me like some of my past impulsive purchases had, most of which are now in a drawer of things I’ve used only once.
Finding no justification nor inspiration, I carefully returned the shoes to their box and went home. Which was probably a good thing, seeing that we live in times when there is an orange idiot in Washington lobbing tariff bombs at the world and playing God in the Middle East, who knows if you will ever need cycling shoes tomorrow.
But at home, while watching Ms Rachel with the grand twins, the shoes decided to send me subliminal messages.
Now, if it were up to my late father, ever the pragmatic parent, he would have boxed me in the ear for even considering these beautifully crafted shoes.
My late mom, God bless her, was a freer spirit and would have at least encouraged me to reconcile this conflict between my desire and my wallet, and see what comes out.
“Will the shoes make you happy?” Mom would have said. She was way ahead of Marie Kondo.
“You’ve had nice shoes before. Remember those basketball shoes? Those for golf? Sepak takraw?! Bowling? You’ve bought shoes for all those.
“Of course, you need special shoes for each sport.”
“Right,” I said. “But these are so expensive, and I can only wear them on the bicycle?”
“That’s good, because it will mean that you’ll be cycling more. Think of it as a way of getting a quick return on investment,” the voice in my head said.
“And the last sports shoes you bought were like what? 12 years ago? Now if you average out RM1,000 over the 12 years…”
ZB Othman is an editor of The Malaysian Reserve.
- This article first appeared in The Malaysian Reserve weekly print edition
The post You won’t persuade me, but keep talking appeared first on The Malaysian Reserve.
