guess which foot is mine?
Unless it's morning,
fetch a strong drink before reading this.
Confession is good for the soul, yes?
But is it good for the soles?
S H O E S.
Most of the women I know are wired
for shoe-love; however, shoefreak-osity
didn't bite me until my mid 40s...
which is like...NOW.
i say i'm pushin 50 'cause that
makes a 45 year old look way younger.
Beige Metallic Pradas - eBay, $40
Anyway, my confession today is not reallllllly about
a new fondness for footwear.
i showed you these the other day - Barney's NY - $5 eBay
No.
More about temporarily losing my mind.
I can hear gasping.
About how donating a dozen dusty pairs (some never worn!)
from my closet to charity caused me to feel...
something new.
have worn these for years
Shoe Remorse.
Weird.
Bless my soles, we have always delivered carloads of
donations with our hearts in the right place.
ooooooooh baaaaaabbbbyyyyy - Manolo Blahniks for 90% off - eBay - HOT!
This was no exception.
Except.
I was too hasty, too caught up in spring
cleaning fever and the joy of purging.
After the donation drop, I felt grief...
I know, this is pathetic.
They're shoes. Material crap.
Springtime weather arrived, and I had no shoes
or budget to replace them.
(true i could have traveled the miles
barefoot to my friend's shop.)
Which is how I discovered pre-owned
made in Italy shoes
on eBay and the beauty of
WALKING IN ANOTHER WOMAN'S SHOES.
Only now I feel something else:
shoe shame.
(Yes, yes, of course, I can't let a simple selfish
scenario just BE. No. No. No.
I have to deconstruct it repeatedly, overanalyze,
obsess, and discover the spiritual lesson...I mean,
WALKING IN ANOTHER WOMAN'S SHOES...
aren't you relieved you don't have to live with me?)
Making light of it, yes, but actually have been
feeling bad about myself because shoes
have never held such power for the minimalist me.
If I don't find humor in these screwups,
my brain explodes. And by screwup, I mean
caring too much about friggin shoes.
I do not ever intend to repeat this nonsense.
dearlord, who am i these days?
We shall chalk this up to yet
another symptom of imbalanced hormones
and pre-menopausal superficiality no one ever talks about.
oh yes i WILL find a way to blame hormones...
B., M., me, and J. - a couple summers ago (we're not twins)
These are the friends that belong to the shoes
in the first image.
Please share your feelings about shoe remorse,
shoe shame, Manolo Blahniks, or hormones.
I have just confessed so do think: redemption and tenderness.
It's all going in the book, btw!
I feel a little better now.
