My sister's call was short and sweet. Neither of us had time that afternoon for anything more than a brief exchange of essential information, which is why her parting words were, "Don't forget -- Nordstrom opens this Friday, and that means shoes."

Brief, essential information, yes, but completely redundant. First of all, like I would forget something so important! I can't remember my children's Social Security numbers or, in fraught moments, even their names, but the opening of the new Nordstrom at Ross Park Mall has been nailed fast in my brain for ages.

Second, of course Nordstrom means shoes. Duh. (My sister probably wasn't implying that I couldn't make this connection myself -- she was just celebrating her imminent joy.)

And third, I see an opportunity to perform a valuable public service: Since this font of fabulous footwear is going to lure women from all over the Pittsburgh region, I will step up, in worn-out peep-toe pumps that really need to be replaced, and explain the shoe thing to men, so my exquisitely shod sisterhood won't have to hide the boxes or the credit card bill.

I apologize up front if my offer seems a little sexist. I have known a couple of men who appreciated stylish shoes enough to own more than, say, one or two dozen pairs. In fact I'm married to such a man, and his last acquisition was some tan-and-white, sneaker-like leather oxfords purchased at the Nordstrom in Tampa, Fla. Yes, I talked him into buying them. And he's worn them. Once or twice.

But really, most of the time the shoe thing is a chick thing. In general, women seem to care more about their appearance than men do. If you men cared as much, you'd always be dieting too.

Once we walk away from the mirror each morning, our shoes are the only part of our outfits we can really see. Throughout the day there's something reassuring about looking down past our swollen ankles to the pointy, embroidered Moroccan slides we've crammed our aching toes into, and saying, "Yep, I still got it goin' on."

To be honest, since having knee-surgery, my standard for fine footwear most days has been, "I don't think I'll fall over in these." The 4-inch mules with the dove gray, ruffled and beribboned vamp? They're a bit dusty. The high-heeled patent leather Mary Janes? Ditto.

But I'm an optimist: My stilettos' day will come again. Until then, clearly I need to buy more sensible, yet alluring, shoes. Thus, Nordstrom.

Now, this is not to disrespect the decent, even inspired footwear options Pittsburgh has offered in my 15 years here. Littles Shoes in Squirrel Hill always has very interesting stuff, but I have to brave tunnel traffic backups to get there, a challenge that has thwarted frequent shopping.

The Designer Shoe Warehouse has an overwhelming and well-priced selection, but you have to set aside a half-day for the aisle-walking marathon.

Saks Fifth Avenue meets the desire to spend my money Downtown, but I rarely want to spend that much. Since Simon Mall announced it had nabbed Nordstrom, Macy's has definitely stepped up its game and continues to offer impressive sales for bargain-ninjas like me.

With this current array of choices, why is Friday a red-letter day? Competition and convenience. As every consumer knows, stiff competition will only make selection and prices better for us shoe-hounds.

And for those of us who live north of the Allegheny River, the trip to Ross is a piece of cake. Once there, shoppers will have five -- take a deep breath, Ruth Ann -- five shoe departments at Nordstrom alone.

A dear relative used to live near Columbus, and on our frequent trips to visit her, we always made time to stop at Easton Town Center (sort of like the SouthSide Works, but quadrupled) and shop for shoes at the Nordstrom. Now I'll have a 10-minute trip, max, if I avoid rush hour.

It's all good.

Of course, these aren't exactly confidence-inspiring times. Many of us are holding our wallets a little tighter these days, avoiding new debt, worrying about job security.

But fear can become self-fulfilling, especially on Wall Street. Ours is a consumer economy, and if I'm going to do any spending, I tell myself, why not shoes? Shouldn't I reward a store, if I can, that was willing to take this gamble?

And wouldn't I look better holding up my end up of the economy while wearing something new? Maybe an oxford, faux crocodile leather, possibly red.