I was born in York, Pennsylvania in the shadow of a three bedroom, two bath “shoe house”/wacky tourist attraction. Perhaps, as a result, shoes have always played a big role in my life and have always loomed large in my mind. From my first pair of jingle bell adorned Stride Rite walking shoes to my current favorites, a pair of Guess white leather 4” high cork wedge platform summer sandals, I have always been “heels over head” about shoes.
One of the best things about the current circumstances of my life is that I’m finally able to do something about those feelings. Because God has a sense of humor, I was born into a family where shoes were not seen as anything other than protection from glass and hot asphalt. Shoes, in our home, were necessities purchased a single pair at a time during Back to School sales. They were almost always several sizes too large, so we could “grow into them”. If my Mom couldn’t get two full fingers down in the toe area, the salesman was quickly sent back to the storeroom to retrieve another pair. Style didn’t matter either and color was chosen, not because of taste or seasonal trends, but because of its ability to conceal scuffs and because it met my Mom’s “matches anything” standard.
Having full blown shoe crushes in this environment was not easy. I wanted follow my passion and start my collection and I was expected to make do with whatever I was given. I felt the way I’m sure Elizabeth Taylor would’ve felt had she be born into a culture that required her to marry only one man - the toothless guy whose parents owned the most goats.
What I would’ve given back then for a pair of red Dr Scholl’s, a pair of white t-strap Bandolino’s, a pair of wedge sandals with wide criss cross tan leather straps or chunky heeled, wooden soled Candie’s a la Olivia Newton John’s Sandy in Grease in a variety of different shades? What I got instead was a pair of too long for me, knock off vinyl sandals from Zayres. (Thank you God that I least had decent legs in my teen years or this really could’ve been social suicide.)
It’s no wonder I started babysitting so young and signed on to work at Disney the minute that bus pulled up to my high school. Even screaming toddlers and vats of cole slaw can be tolerated when there is footwear hanging in the balance. I was in a shoe famine of biblical proportions during that period of my life and if I had to change diapers and wear hairnets to rectify the situation, then so be it.
Lack of funds was not the only obstacle keeping me from having happy feet. My parents were not the only ones who had a say in what type of shoes were in my closet during my youth. The Safety Director at Disney felt the need to weigh in as well. The good news is that, thanks to him, I was able to add another pair of shoes to my meager collection. The bad news? The new pair was of the durable, black, rubber soled variety.
Today my shoe choices have nothing to do with practicality or other people’s mandates. Today, they are determined by the yearnings of my heart and the contents of my wallet. My stint as a Cub Scout leader ended over a decade ago and I’m fairly sure I’ll never have to chase after my next meal with spear in hand, so I don’t have to select my shoes based on their ability to withstand the elements and protect my tender soles from rocks, burrs and spiny vines. I have the sense not to live in a climate where sub zero temperatures are the norm, so I don’t have to consider whether or not a pair of shoes I love is able to take the snow and salt. If I have a strong feeling that my life will not be complete until the brown leather clogs with the brass studs and wooden heels that are currently residing in the 9 West store at the Millennium Mall make their way into my closet, I don’t have to discuss that with a husband. (I would have to justify the purchase of these clogs to myself, which so far, I have been unable to do :(, but I wouldn’t have to justify it to anyone else.)
Another advantage of where I’m at in life right now is that I don’t have to share closet space with anyone. That means my shoes all get the attention they deserve. They’re not crammed in boxes or hidden under my bed. They’re showcased on stackable shelving and arranged by color and style on the back of one of the closet doors. It’s the most fabulous thing! (Wouldn’t Imelda be proud?) It’s not quite the closet from the Park Avenue apartment in Sex and the City, but it’s close. (Well, it has a little :) less square footage and it contains no Manolo Blahniks, but it is devoid of all things boy. There is not a golf club or firearm or guitar or tie or foul smelling sock anywhere in my living space right now and I couldn’t be happier about it.) *Side note: If the foul smelling sock came with a kind, principled, fun, funny, employed, attractive - Sorry, I’m still a little more shallow than I ought to be in this area of my life- ring bearing man with a good heart, good values and a good reason for being single, I’m pretty sure I could make room for it.
There is a measure of power and magic in every pair of well designed shoes and the only women who don’t know this are the ones who have spent their entire lives in ratty old slippers, ripped, dirty sneakers, steel toed industrial shoes and/or gray “pleather” flats. Shoes are able to make a woman look and feel taller. They always fit, even when nothing else in her closet does. They are conversation starters and confidence boosters and outfit completers. They can make men sigh and women covet and bugs run for the hills. They are art and sole for the heart and soul 
Guiseppe Zanotti Open Toed Pumps, which can be yours for a mere $595. (NO, I don't own a pair! I would like to own an original Van Gogh too, but that doesn't mean I do. :)
Guiseppe Zanotti Open Toed Pumps, which can be yours for a mere $595. (NO, I don't own a pair! I would like to own an original Van Gogh too, but that doesn't mean I do. :) Shoes are, by a sizeable margin, my very favorite accessory.
If only I could draw, I’d create a comic strip superheroine, Shoe-per Woman, whose trademark move is that she ventures into shoe stores, not phone booths, whenever it’s time to suit up and battle the bad guys. Can you imagine a villain foolish enough to mess with a woman in a pair of sheer Barely Black silk stockings and black Christian Louboutin stilettos? He’d be rendered powerless before he could say, “I surrender” and don’t we all know it!
One of my major pet peeves with all those other superheros is their inability to change things up. Really, Batman? … Are you really planning to wear that red cape AGAIN? Shoe-per Woman would know better. If she found herself at cross purposes with the evil Mr. Freeze, she’d just put on a pair of strappy, leather gladiator sandals on her freshly pedicured feet and in no time, Mr. Freeze would be hot, bothered and under her spell. In fact, within minutes of glimpsing Shoe-per Woman’s toned, tanned calves and her smartly polished tootsies, he’d be nothing but a puddle on the floor. Ever see Robin or the Hulk make something like that happen? No you have not.
One of my favorite lines in Legally Blonde, one of my favorite feel good movies :), is the snarky, “Don’t you stomp your little last season Prada shoes at me, Honey”, which Enrique hisses ever so condescendingly at Elle outside the courtroom. To Enrique, a shoe snob, the fact that Elle’s shoes don’t meet his exacting standards, gives him free reign to treat her with contempt. Other characters, those in academia and in the legal community, are quick to dismiss her as well, but for the opposite reason. To them, the idea that Elle cares about something so frivolous as the design and craftsmanship of her footwear and the materials that were used to create it, is proof positive that she doesn’t have two working brain cells to rub together.
When I first got out of college, it was all about the navy wool blend suit - which had to be paired with navy understated pumps with an up to two inch heel. If a woman wanted to be taken seriously in corporate America, this was her uniform. Basically, we were all told to dress alike, to dress like men and to flip the off switch on several of our most powerful assets - our uniqueness, our creativity and our femininity.
Elle’s shoes were key to Elle’s image and that image was what helped her get the information she needed to solve a crime and win a case – a case her smug, seasoned, superior would’ve almost certainly lost without her help. She saw as much value in the right side of her brain as she did in the left. She nurtured the creative part of herself and the fun and flirtatious part of herself every bit as much as she stretched herself intellectually. Those who underestimated her because of this found out the hard the way that if you choose to go up against a woman with brains, humor, humility, integrity and an impressive shoe collection, you should do so at your own risk.
Bette Middler once said, “Give a girl the correct footwear and she can conquer the world.” An exaggeration? I think not. While stylish shoes can’t ensure world peace, they can enable perky beauty contestants to reach their mikes and make impassioned pleas for it. Why our national security advisors don’t capitalize on this is a mystery to me. We’ve tried just about everything else, why not put together a platoon of comely, well-shod ambassadors, dispatch them around the globe and see where it gets us. Couldn’t hurt, could it? I mean, nothing against Hillary and her sensible low heeled pumps, but we’ve got that that former Miss Teen South Carolina contestant at our disposal. I say put that put that girl in a pair of these
Shoes by Jimmy Choo (No these aren't mine either... sigh! :( )
at the onset of the next international incident, hand her a map and a few airline tickets and watch our enemies’ frowns turn upside down. Anyway, time to stop. I’m beginning to feel like a food critic on a 1500 calorie per/day diet. If I give this topic anymore thought, I may find myself walking the 3.36 miles to the nearest DSW and camping out until the door is unlocked so I can do a little sole searching. Parting thought: “Remember, Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, but she did it backwards and in high heels.” ~ Faith Whittlesey Only one more week to Wine, Women and Shoes. See post below. :) Happy Saturday!
