I'm having one of those days where I can't focus, so two blog entries today.
A while ago I realized I have a shoe fetish. Okay, it a long, long time ago.
I've always known how much I love shoes. I have at least, at least 15 pairs of black shoes alone and they are all different as each has a different function.
For instance, some are dressy, some go with skirts, some go with jeans, some are sandals, some go better with shorts . . . so while I was straightening my shoe collection and setting some aside for my yard sale I've realized that my shoe shopping technique parallels my experiences with the opposite sex.
Check it.
So far, in my life I have tried on a lot of shoes. I used to just try on shoes for the hell of it.
I don't do this anymore.
My time is precious to me and I don't feel like trying on a bunch of shoes at random just for the sake of trying on shoes.
Now, when I go into a shoe department I cruise the selection very discriminatingly. If nothing looks particularly attractive to me then I just walk away.
If I'm going to spend time flagging down a sales associate, taking off my shoes (and/or socks) and walking around in then, then when I decide to give up my time the shoe better be damned special.
When I first started shoe shopping I would just grab shoes off the rack or have a salesperson bring them to me all willy nilly. Maybe they looked pretty, or just different, on display, but I really didn't have any sort of vision for them.
I mean, sure they looked cute but what good would they do me if I wasn't ready for them. But I was young and inexperienced, so I'd take them home and try to make them go with something. I'd dish out the cash and then build an outfit around them. Or worse, I'd buy them, bring them home and never really grow fond of them. I was just seduced by the fact that they were different. By the fact that they weren't mine.
Sometimes I'd get lucky and find a really amazing shoe that looked great on the rack and when I'd slip it on it made me feel and look wicked hot. But, the first step I'd take in them I'd glance down swiftly at them to see when the bitches turned into a medieval torture device.
I'd hobble over to the mirror in them, hike up my pants leg and think, "Oh, but they look sooooo good!" And a woman sitting just out of my line of vision would say, "Those look AMAZING," and I swear, swear to you it was the voice of God, so I'd say, "Wrap 'em up!"
So I'd do take them home and wear them when I was vaccuuming or washing dishes or ironing clothes, hoping in vain that I'd "break them in" so that I could wear them in public without fainting from the pain. Only to realize that it wasn't the shoes that were being broken in as much as it was my feet.
Really, those kinds of shoes make sense in every way but for some reason the fit just isn't quite right and no matter how much you try to make it work it just isn't gonna happen. I was never going to feel comfortable with them.
And on and on . . . I could keep going on about all of my shoe encounters, but it would be the same thing: girl finds a great pair of shoes, girl falls in love with shoes, girl gets shoes, girl gets tired of shoes, girl goes looking for new shoes.
Stashed in my closet right now is this perfect pair of loafers that I fall back on time and time again.
I have them in black and brown: I love them that much. They are sturdy shoes with non-trendy square toes. I adore them. In fact, one pair (yes, the black ones) I've worn so much that the insoles have become unglued.
You know why I keep coming back to them?
They feel good, look good and go with 98% of the outfits in my closet. I don't have to make them work, they just do and I take extra special care of them because I love them so much.
I think they may be my solemate.
Sure, I keep looking and trying on new shoes, but the fact that I have these at home keeps me from trying on every other pair of shoes. I keep comparing anything else to the ones I already have.
I love those shoes.
Now if I could only find that same love with a boot.
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