Tag Archives: Shoe

Forbidden Pleasures

12487259_s_Fotor EditedRecently, I blew up my Universe – shopping for shoes. Formerly a forbidden pleasure, I literally soared to new heights trying on all sorts of heels. Though I must confess, I don’t know how my fellow females bear the discomfort of those pointy toes and stilettos that send me teetering and tottering.

Notwithstanding the daily roller coaster ride presented by my Dystonia, my feet have led a relatively ho hum life, long relegated to the safety of Aerosoles’ “Forgive” model and a sparing assortment of sneakers, plus a few pairs of carefully chosen and largely unexciting boots.

So fancy me, perched on a footstool in DSW surrounded by treasure troves of ladies footwear in an endless variety of heights, shapes, styles, sizes, fabrics and colors – feeling as deliciously decadent as the most luxurious chocolate dessert. Gingerly, I eased my feet into a pair of 3 inch black suede pumps, thinking, like the Little Engine That Could, “I think I can, I think I can,” and, just like that shiny blue engine, I actually could! Suspended in a state of disbelief – and by a pair of magnificent for-me-miraculously-high heels, I strutted across the room, a battery-powered cyborg towering over the profuse displays of ladies shoes surrounding me!

Postscript- Notwithstanding my frivolous purchases, in my world, practicality continues to reign supreme. I wear my new treasures sparingly, storing them safely in their cardboard boxes nestled in crinkly tissue, visiting frequently for a joyful peak.

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Shoe Fetish

12487259_sTypical of most females is a love affair with leather delectables that grace the feet. My friends pontificate over the perfect match of shoe to garment, agonizing over the slope and height of heel as if they’re solving a complex trigonometric equation. Years ago, I understood that fashion starts at my ankles – when I wear boots at my knees.

There’s no rhyme or reason to which shoes cooperate with my misbehaving muscles, particularly my left foot, which acts like a caged beast desperate to escape confinement. I apply a simple test: (1) do my feet stay in the shoes; if yes, go to part (2) do they make my walking worse? Mind you, my body’s apt to play naughty tricks. I’ll put the shoes through boot camp in-store, all systems go. Then invariably, I can’t walk in the shoes when I need them. Prince Charming’s quest for Cinderella’s singular foot has nothing on my footwear missions. I dread shopping for sneakers!

The moral of this story: They say shoes make the outfit, but in my book, the most important item we wear is our smile!