I'm a shoe freak.
Funny, considering the fact that I am almost always barefoot.
I suppose that my love of cool footwear was born of a childhood spent wearing "corrective shoes" and orthodics. I even had to wear shoes at the beach! Except for dance class and bed, I was laced into saddle shoes. Sometimes they were brown and white, sometimes they were black and white.
At length, my doctor decided that my feet were...well, "correct". No more saddle shoes! I could wear whatever I wanted!!
Now, you might think that the first thing I would do under those circumstances would be that I would run out and buy shoes. Actually, I pretty much gave up wearing shoes at all.
I decided that I would only wear shoes when I had to and that, if I had to wear shoes, they would damn well be terrific. Of course, my definition of terrific has altered a bit, from time to time.
For about twelve years, it meant a pair of custom Italian boots I bought in Florence when I was fifteen. Damn, those were great boots! Tortoise-shell dyed, covered heel, fit perfectly and both the most extravagant and sensible purchase that I have ever made in my life.
For quite a few years, terrific meant delightfully inexpensive, embroidered slippers from China. They were almost as nice as being barefoot.
I have also bought my share of truly wicked shoes. There was a pair of skyscraper high peau de soie dancing slippers . And the anklestraps that lost a heel at a disco on a Hallowe'en night in Greenwich Village when I was flung against a riser on the dance floor. Then there were the electric blue sling-backs that I took out to the Sangre de Christo Mtns. of New Mexico. Truly great shoes, each and every one of them!
Sensible shoes are my concession to necessity. But, whenever I buy them, I nearly always buy a second pair of shoes that are not sensible at all. They are shoes for my spirit, for my inner self.
Which brings me to the month of July, wherein I purchased five pairs of shoes. Five. Only one pair was even remotely sensible. The other four are anything but.
As I sit here and look at them, and try them on, I am trying to listen to what my inner self is saying through selecting these shoes. What part of my personality is trying to be heard? What part of my life is being neglected? Is there a reason for my buying five pairs, apart from the obvious fact that they were sale and very, very reasonable?
Last night, I went to Stein Mart and was trying to decide between an oh-so-cute pair of black and white patent slides covered with 3D daisies and a pair of ballet-pink slides. I asked TonyP which pair he thought would look better with jeans. He answered that the pink ones were good dangling shoes because there was a pattern on the sole. Hmm....so, I tried it. They did dangle awfully well.
Today, my inner self is anxious to take those pink sandals out for a spin and contemplating a pedicure.