Monday, May 07, 2007
My Shoe Autobiography
So, after reading this article, my mind strayed to last night (at 11PM) as Brian was frantically organizing my 30+ pairs of shoes. He was muttering little things to himself like, “I’m about to impale my foot on these shoes” and “why does anyone need so many shoes that look exactly the same?” This led (naturally) to a very lengthy discussion about the difference between black heels with a buckle and black heels without a buckle, and what makes a Mary Jane a Mary Jane, and why everybody needs at least one pair of Mary Janes (which is probably the point where he blacked out). So, I thought I would write a little shoe autobiography and maybe Brian would understand the roll of shoes in my life (dedicated to: my Brian. I'm glad your foot didn't get impaled on my shoes this morning).
I was raised, like most little girls, trying on shoes – especially heels. The shoe department often beckoned me, and my mom said that when I was barely old enough to walk, I would disappear and they would find me in the shoe department trying on the displays (true story).
I think the first exciting shoes I ever owned were a pair of tall boots that my mom got me to play with at a garage sale. They were black, and had tall heels and pointy toes (which ironically is back in style). At that point in my life a pair of tall boots came up to my thighs, but that was OK because the fabric was so stiff they stayed up even though my legs were little sticks with knees and toes. These boots were very important to my social status since I was automatically the coolest cousin (in our little group of cousins) on my dad’s side (which I had never been before).
My next major shoe moment was when I was the flower girl in my cousin, Wendy’s, wedding. My mom took me shoe shopping and as soon as we stopped at Kenneth Shoes, my eyes lit upon a pair of ivory shoes with a bow on the top. I could not be persuaded to leave the store without them.
My second grade teacher (Mrs. Sanak) was perhaps the best dressed woman I have ever met (she probably wasn’t but there is no convincing a little girl that lots of jewelry and good shoes doesn’t necessarily equal class). My favorite part of the week was when we had spelling tests and she would dictate words to us and walk slowly in front of the classroom with her pumps clicking on the tile and squeaking softly. Time after time, throughout my life when things seem dismal (and spelling tests seemed hard), a good shoe has given me comfort.
Once my Aunt Susie bought me a pair of black, lacy toe-peeks (so hot). I think I was a senior in high school, and I don’t know that I have ever felt so sophisticated or grown up in my entire life.
I had a pair of Candies’ dressy combat boots (basically combat boots that aren’t camo and have a heel) that I wore to church a lot when I was in college. And one evening (on our way to church) Brian commented on my boots, and how he was surprised that you could wear boots like that into a church. Looking back on it, I realize that he was probably serious, but at the time I was sure that he was teasing me because he liked me (and my boots too).
After getting lots of duplicates from our wedding, the store would only give us store credit and since it was a department store, Brian let me get a pair of Sketchers with some of the money and they have completely revolutionized my footwear. I have reintroduced the white sock to my foot wardrobe.
Yes, shoes have been important. They have clipped and clopped, and flipped and flopped at exactly the right moments. A good pair of shoes is like a good friend. Didn’t someone say that once? Err… Maybe the saying is a good friend is like a good pair of shoes. But either way, shoes are great.