She Thinks

For anybody who knows me or who has read this blog in the past (and knows how crazy I am about shoes)…this one will strike you as odd.  But it is the truth.

I HATE all the shoes with the ridiculous stiletto platforms that try to lure us into thinking that we can actually stand in a shoe sitting more than 6” off the ground…and then walk.

You know the ones I’m talking about…they look pretty at first glance, but they’ve been known to give women nose bleeds when they wear them!

The theory of course is that the platform helps to raise the front part of our foot off the ground enough to reduce the angle down from the 6” heel behind the platform.

But who are they kidding?

The whole combination just makes us walk on stilts without anything touching the damn floor!

And when I see women try to walk in them…I think they look like they’re either constipated (ya have to squeeze your tush really tight in order to stay upright in ‘em) or have had their feet bound since birth (shuffling along in 2” increments).

(Pause) (Breathe)

Ok.  Now that I’ve said it, I feel all the 54 years that I am.  And right now, that feels old.

Why?  Because when I was wearing a cute little shoe with a 3–*-” heel (not too long ago), I remember my mother saying to me …”how do you walk in those things?”  And she sounded old when she said it.

So I’ve become my mother.

But I’m standing by my hatred.

‘Cause I think they’re just too much shoe.

Honestly, how can you look at them and not think they’re bulky.

I mean come ‘on!?!  A platform bootie?

It looks like little foot tanks, or the boots they put on people who have had major foot surgery.

Or platform shoes that combine their bulkiness with animal prints?  Like we want lots of spotted patterns on our feet?

*Exception: some animal print shoes can be lovely with a simple outfit, adding just a bit of interest while making the whole look classy…and styling, as long as the shoes are an accent and don’t look like we just wrapped our foot in a live leopard.

Finally…and the end of my rant (I promise)…What is up with the large, bulky platform shoes that are COVERED with sequins, jewels or crystals?

It’s not enough that we’re towering off the ground, but have to be shooting off rays of light as we walk?

Maybe I am old.

Or I’ve just gotten to the point where I like to blend the pieces of my wardrobe together into one cohesive look, rather than having all the attention go to two gigantic coverings on my feet.

Who knows.  I’m so worked up now…I think I’ll put on my favorite pair of simple, classy, fuzzy slippers and curl up with all my new fashion magazines.

Maybe they’re showing the new line of 6” platform running shoes.

I’m almost embarrassed to admit it…but when I watch the commercials for DSW my heart begins to race and I find it a bit difficult to breath.  I don’t know if it’s that jazzy/Latin style music they play, or the flashing of various styles of shoes appearing on my TV screen.  But I truly begin to hyperventilate.

It’s not something I’m proud of.

Maybe I’m sick.

Maybe I’ve developed low blood pressure due to shoe intoxication.

I don’t know…and I don’t care.  I just want to rush out to DSW (or any other store selling shoes) and see what magical shoe wants to jump off the shelf into my arms for that day.

But that is now…and it’s important to know that I wasn’t always so excited about shoes.  When I was much younger, I cared about boys, not shoes (I had no idea at the time how incredibly linked the two were), and…I didn’t do outfits.  I did jeans and T-shirts and usually grabbed whatever shoes were closest to the front of my closet so that I didn’t have to exert much energy to find them when running out the door.

Then I got a job.

And, I began to interact with people who seemed to get up in the morning and put their clothes on in a “meaningful way”…including their shoes.

I was fascinated.

I remember shopping for my first grown-up work clothes in catalogs such as Newport News and Spiegel and they would show brightly colored two piece suits with matching colored high heel “pumps.”*  A turquoise suit with turquoise pumps…a peach suit with peach pumps.  It was a virtual sherbet sundae of working woman clothing…and I couldn’t wait to eat it up.

(For those who are unfamiliar with the classic “pump” style…it is a simple design that has endured over decades, promising to elongate the leg, slim down even the thickest of ankles, and guarantee any number of foot ailments due to years of squeezing five toes into a narrow pointed section of leather at the bottom of a 45 degree angle.)

I quickly learned that shoes came in other styles besides turquoise or peach colored pumps and couldn’t seem to get enough shoes into my life (or into my closet).  I started buying shoes in every combination of shapes, heel heights and colors.  Some worked.  Some didn’t.  But through it all, I began to develop a knack for figuring out which style of shoe would best compliment each piece of clothing in my close and how to build an “outfit” using shoes as the anchor piece.

I was in heaven!  I was struttin’ down the street in classic loafers with rolled up jeans, or wowing business associates with subtle yet classy pumps (no more turquoise for this lady!) or tempting my man to take me out (and back home for a “lovely” night) with a pair of drop dead stilettos that made my legs look like they came out of my shoulders.

Each pair of shoes had a specific purpose that was expressly stated when combined with the appropriate outfit.  As I walked into a room, you would instantly know what I was saying…like,  “take me seriously at work” -or “I may be a mom, but I’m still a sexy momma!” – or – “let’s walk on dirt”…you get the idea.

It was a great system and I loved the challenge of figuring out what shoe would best express the purpose at hand.

And then…I developed bunions.

On both feet.

And had to stop wearing 99% of the shoes in my closet.

I experienced my first ever serious shoe slump.  Following surgery on both feet at the same time, I was relegated to a pair of large, clunky, foam filled, Velcro closing, open toed “bunion boots”…for 6 WEEKS!

As I sunk into a deep shoe withdrawal depression, my doctor explained that at the end of the 6 weeks, I should have at the ready, a pair of …(it’s hard for me to say these words) … “sensible shoes.”

I had no idea what he was talking about.  It took me the full 6 weeks to figure it out.  Finally, I found a pair of shoes I could walk comfortably in for the next year.

And, they were kind of cute.

No…not really.

They were wide, and brown, and flat and boring.  But they didn’t hurt.

It took 12 months, 3 weeks and 4 days before I was able to get my feet into a new cute shoe.

You would think that during this time (including the years of pain leading up to the bunions and resulting surgery) I would have been cured of my serious shoe addiction.  But no.

Instead, it taught me an important lesson…that with both patience and perseverance, I could search out new styles, heel heights and colors that could still be DROP DEAD perfect, but…with a bit of moderation (that would mean no more 4″ heels), they didn’t actually have to cause any more bodily harm.

I WAS FREE AGAIN!  Free to once again start buying cute (and sometimes still comfortable) shoes.  Free to re-embrace the challenge of building great outfits while allowing my shoes to state the purpose of my day as I walked into a room.

And free to let the joy and excitement creep back into my life as a new DSW commercial aired on TV.