Stilettos, Platform Shoes and Sneakers, Yes!

This blog is dedicated to my friend Bettie, who has even more shoes than I do!

According to my mother, I flew out of the womb, yelling, “Shoes, I need shoes!” That may be a slight exaggeration but my fascination with shoes started early. I refused to walk barefoot as a child. I liked my feet covered. Some would say adorned. A little sparkle always caught my eye.  I was also attracted to red shoes. For school – a stodgy parochial school where I wore uniforms — my practical mother tried to put me in Maryjanes but I clamored for really cool penny loafers with a shiny new penny. Then I had to have red sneakers for play.

When I went to high school, sneakers were the rage. I had them in several different colors including a pink plaid pair that I just loved.  I believe that is the only shoe I ever wore out.  As a younger woman, I wore what we called “spikes.” I am guessing they were about 3 inches high with pointy toes. And don’t forget the beloved platform shoes.  What I love best is that they come back every ten years or so.  I never throw mine out!

They make the best styles for women who can wear really high heels. Today, I see actresses wear “stilettos.” Descriptions have them at 5 inches or higher. How can anyone walk on those? My feet just aren’t long enough! I have enough trouble with a 2 inch heel which is the absolute highest I can go.  Somehow they always have an orthopedic look to them — something my mother would wear. That doesn’t stop me from buying lots of them! Last year the beloved husband made a 6 foot high cabinet to house my fabulous collection (of mostly orthopedic looking footwear). To be sure the cabinet was the correct size, I inventoried my “collection,” measured and sketched out what the cabinet dimensions would need to be.  Oops! Too big for my enormous walk-in closet! We could buy another house or…….

I settled on a cabinet for the “in-season” shoes which numbered fairly close to 70.  I would need to box and store the out-of-season treasures. Now keep in mind that, like most people, I only have two feet. If summer is from April until the end of September that is 183 days. Simple math says that I would only wear each pair 2.6 days. At that rate it would take me three decades to “wear out” a pair.

For comparison, my beloved husband has about four pair. Six, if you count his ratty gardening shoes. He actually has been known to wear out a pair and NEED to replace them.  Needing shoes isn’t in my vocabulary.  I just WANT them. Red ones (which never match anything because they are too orange or too blue), purple ones, the standards and of course the funky ones that are never comfortable.  Why is it that the most beautiful shoes hurt?  It must be written in a book somewhere!

I think I buy shoes to soothe myself after a hard day or maybe in place of a spa day. It always does the trick. My problem is not that I have too many pair; it’s that the year doesn’t have enough days!

Grey Heads

Legal Disclaimer – if YOU are a grey head this does not apply to you.  It only applies to other grey heads who are not near as nice as you are.

Did you know that Pennsylvania is the second “oldest” state in the nation? The aging population is second only to Florida.  I firmly believe that at least 95% of those folks live in my area. Since I have had the freedom to shop during the day, I have found them shuffling in places they should not be.  (That would be anywhere I need to be.) I visited our local farmers’ market on a Thursday morning.  It was jammed.  I thought there was a fire sale on vegetables! Everyone was doing some sort of orthotic shuffle, some using carts as a walker. Not a good idea as they can’t see what’s in front of them.  I had my hips bashed a couple of times and my toes run over (note to self – steel-tipped shoes for the farmers’ market). It seems that when you get older you do not need to be polite or apologize for nearly killing someone.  Everyone just takes it in stride.

They pinch, squash and bruise the produce. They elbow in front of you and then act innocent…”were you in line? Oh, I didn’t realize that.” I most enjoy the loving couples. In a way, they are cute and endearing, a lot like a pair of teenagers who just discovered body parts. I often wonder if they treated each other so well when they were younger. Probably not. The outfits are a bit wild – you would be surprised at what works (or doesn’t) with orthotic shoes and walkers. Hats are big too. Men seem to prefer what is called a “flat hat.” That’s the correct name because Wikipedia said so. It’s the one where the part that sits on the head is smooshed over the brim. Golfers often wear them. No one under 80 does.

Driving near them is an adventure.  They drive BIG cars where their heads are just little bumps above the seats. Their maximum speed is 25 mph (often in the passing lane); they turn left on red; and putz just enough so I miss the green light while they continue to cruise on their merry way. My car cannot drive that slowly!  That speed is between gears.  The poor car wants me to speed up or stop. There are no other choices.

Personally, I don’t intend to be a grey head, at least as long as Clairol is a functioning business and I can squeeze my toes into (somewhat) fashionable shoes.  I do intend to wear a lot of purple and maybe a hat!