Shoes I Have Loved

I spent yesterday afternoon with my friends Meredith and Kim. Naturally, with three women in the room, the topic of conversation eventually worked its way around to shoes. Meredith (who went to New York armed with socks and Band-Aids so she could break in her new boots without significant blood loss)  has a friend who believes that all women are obsessed with one of three things: shoes, purses, or lingerie. I proudly carry the banner of the shoe obsessed—or at least, I used to. Thanks to some cartilidge issues that I'll spare you, I now own a lot of Clarks. But there was a time when I could work in high heels all day long without the aid of pharmaceuticals or crutches, and my cousins called me Imelda. (Remember the former Philippine first lady whose ousters confiscated over 2,000 pairs of shoes?) When I was in high school, I had a Sunday School teacher named Sally who was also a shoe hound. We couldn't resist admiring each other's footwear every Sunday morning before turning our attention to the Scripture. As a single working girl with a credit card, I once waltzed into Parisian and bought three pairs of shoes at one time. And they weren't even on sale. I no longer possess department store credit cards, for the obvious reasons, but I still remember some of those shoes. I got a little misty telling Kim and Meredith about a pair of absolutely perfect taupe pumps I owned in the eighties. Alas, I wore them completely out before I met Teresa, a work friend who introduced me to the wonders of resoling. I had some killer red patent Kenneth Coles with a super-high heel—to die for. Rose-colored suede peep-toes that looked like something out of a Betty Grable movie. Lovely. Pearlized sling-backs and black evening shoes with a silver bow and . . . boots. Don't even get me started on boots. While I mourn the loss of my ability to wear five-inchers, Kim shared a shoe tragedy far more heartbreaking than my orthopedic issues. She owned the perfect black wedges—great fit, great height, went with everything—until one fateful morning when her preschooler said "Mommy, I don't feel good." And in a moment of moral weakness, she put her child's welfare before that of her shoes, raced to baby's aid . . . and got her favorite wedges covered in something we'll just call "projectile." They were done for. Yes, to ensure the safety and well-being of her child, Kim sacrificed an amazing pair of shoes. But I still think she's a good person.:)

[Image by Wixphoto.com @ Freerangestock.com] 

Comments

[Kacey]

Love. Shoes. Particularly those of the blue suede variety - but I don't discriminate! <3

[Vivian Anne]

Love shoes also! Love you much more!

[Valerie]

Aw! Hugs, cuz!

[Valerie]

Ha! I might've known:)

[sally cobb]

Hey Val - I do remember our discussions before scriptures. Still love shoes but have to confess that now comfort comes before beauty.

[Valerie]

Oh, Sally, isn't it a tragedy? A couple of shoe girls like us looking for arch support. What's the world coming to?:)