I think, perhaps, I have had a life altering experience.
The Saturday after Thanksgiving (NOT black Friday, I’m not that crazy) daughter #2 and I went to DSW. She needed some sort of boot to keep her feet warm and dry thru a St. Louis winter which was starting off cold and wet, and I needed grownup shoes to wear with the grownup clothes I had bought for the wedding. Really, these were both need situations. When I say I have no shoes to wear with an outift, you can be sure that I genuinely have no shoes. There are some situations where you just can not wear tennis shoes, I don’t care how much you don’t care about fashion.
I won’t even try to explain daughter #2’s love/hate relationship with shoes and shoe shopping. For this trip, however, she suspended her normal shoe store behaviour and went into mom-really-needs-support-through-this-experience mode. Under her approving tutelage, I bought three, 3, THREE pairs of grownup shoes.
Pair one is a pair of black flats, with some patent leather accents, to wear with nice slacks. My current pair of non-sneakers to wear with black pants has been referred to as “band shoes.” (But but but they are really comfy and when you are hauling boxes of books you need something that will stay on your feet.) I am not getting rid of the band shoes, but at least I have a nicer alternative.
Pair two is a pair of summer shoes, espadrille-ish with a low wedge heel. They were on the deep discount rack. For $12 they are happily sitting in their box in the closet where I will probably forget I have them by the time next summer rolls around.
Pair three is a pair of plain black pumps, maybe a 2 inch heel, with really pointy toes. I thought I hated really pointy toes. I put them on and said, hmmm, these look not too weird. I thought my feet would never tolerate being schmushed into really pointy toes. I put them on and said, hmmm, these feel comfortable enough that I could probably wear them for an evening. I didn’t even feel like I was buying them out of desperation. I was happy about it. What is happening to me?!
So I packed up for the wedding. I wore my tennies. I packed my new black pointy shoes. That was it, I was committed, rehearsal dinner and wedding. Would my feet ever forgive me?
I survived. My feet survived. I never even tripped or misstepped – not once. I see no signs of blisters or toe nails about to fall off or anything. Now, it is Thursday and to reward my feet and toes for their fine behaviour I have only worn sneakers or clogs or slippers this week. But I think they’d be up for being shmooshed again if the occasion warranted it.
Maybe Santa will bring me a shoe rack for my closet….