There is a group of women, like my friend Sarah, who can walk for miles in in four inch heels without a whimper of complaint.
And then there’s me. A person who can’t resist a gorgeous pair of shoes but craves comfort above all else.
Does beauty trump comfort? How do I go from, “I am looking for a pretty, comfortable pair of shoes” to a closet filled with beautiful shoes I never wear because they torture my feet?
I’m in the store. There they are. A pair of shoes I.must.have.
I gingerly put them on my feet. I admire their beauty.
I walk around the store thinking this is *the perfect pair of shoes*.
I convince myself they ARE comfortable despite any warning signs to the contrary. Anyway, how can you really know if a shoe fits from walking around a small store?
I purchase them, mentally picturing which outfits they will match.
Sometimes I discover I need a new outfit just for the pair of shoes. Oh! A shopping spree. My new shoes totally deserve the perfect outfit.
I plan an evening with Josh. I debut the shoes. I look fabulous. I feel fabulous.
Then we walk. Often not far. And I realize: these shoes HURT.
Sigh…I know from that moment on those shoes will be relegated to times when there is little-to-no walking.
Then I suffer the aftermath.
The shoes are sent to the shelf to be admired and only worn sparingly. Like this pair:
Sure they are stunning but those leather straps dig ditches into my legs. I wore them recently and a woman passing by exclaimed “I LOVE THOSE SHOES”. I wanted to reply “Me too! Too bad my legs are about to bleed”.
I particularly love this pair:
In fact, I love these so much I purchased an adorable skirt from Anthropologie to match them.
And this pair?
I got into a physical fight with my best friend over these. At the time a bitch slap seemed warranted but looking back I might have gone a bit far. (To be fair the bitch slap was a result of my friend insulting the size of my feet).
I want to be the type of woman that can wear any shoes and simply walk without the fear of wounds. But I’m not. Instead I wear a pair of purple Birkenstocks (summer) or Dansko clogs (winter) while I collect more and more lovely shoes that sit contently in my shoe rack waiting for their moment.
When will I find that perfect pair of shoes? The equivalent of Cinderella’s glass slipper? Are they out there just waiting for me?