My shoes

There are two words that can put me into frenzy mode. Shoe sale.

This isn't a unique story. I'm almost loathe to talk about this to you, fellow bloggers, because you guys write about so many thought provoking and important subjects. I'm not the only woman in the world who loves her shoes, anyway. It's absolutely impossible for me to go shopping with a friend or sister and come home empty handed if any store I visit is selling shoes. Shoes are like crack to me. I have high heels, low heels, sandals, peep toes, wedges, all that good stuff. For every pair I own, I can tell you exactly how much, where, when, and what I was wearing when I purchased them-this is very silly but dammit don't I deserve a little joy? I always cringe a little when I hear someone say they have something cute and never wore, what a waste! I can find any excuse to put on a cute pair of shoes. Caught the flu? Wear those kitten heels to check the mail, you feel like utter crap, but the feet look cute. Feel depressed? Don't pop a Prozac, paint your toe nails blue and put on those peep toes. Gained some weight? Put on those black strappy platforms, black is slimming and anyway no matter what that hell forsaken number on the scale is, shoes always fit! The dog is sick? Drive him to his vet in your cutest nude wedge sandals--they contain the secret to healing. Got another f-ing doctor appointment? Wear these coffee colored wedges because, although the scary biopsy will hurt like hell, the design on the heel will look really sweet under that horrible lighting! I even specifically wore my pink heels the day I knew they were going to tell me I had thyroid cancer because, dammit I'll not be told I have the scary c-word disease in my ratty old brown flip flops! Hey, it's not the remedy for everyone, but it works for me. I have a couple pairs of shoes that could sell on Ebay for enough to feed a a family of ten boys for a few months. This is strange because I have a huge disdain for ridiculously expensive logo-handbags and the like(this is a topic I could bitch about for years). Would you be surprised to know that my favorite shoes are actually old daisy flip-flops I bought in the kids' section at Walmart for $4.99 a few years ago? I walked all over sexy South Beach Miami, survived two nasty hurricane seasons, visited two theme parks, walk Peanut everyday in those flip flops. My second favorite pair I bought in San Jose, California and my heart broke last month because the strap is broken again. I can't repair them because they've been repaired so many times and are just so old( I bought them during the dot-com boom, they're that old). But I refuse to throw them away because I like being able to say that I broke them dancing with my husband.

My shoe collection is outnumbered by my mother's. This is all her fault because this all started when I played dress up in her closet. I learned how to walk in high heels by 3rd grade. She says we're not, but I've asked her if we might be related to Imelda Marcos......

Yesterday I added two more pairs to my stash. Both wedges. I can stop any time I want, I don't have a problem! It was just this one more time and I don't feel guilty about a thing. But they were both less than $25.oo marked down from $70.00 and have you any idea how hard it is to find my size???? It would have been a sin to leave them behind, ownerless. I'm doing a public service, really.


Would it make you feel less dismissive of me if I told you I used to be an environmental/animal rescue activist and fundraiser? No? How about if I told you I donated an obscene amount to animal shelters and nature preserves in the past 12 years? I once saved a baby blue jay and woodpecker.....I'm more than just my shoe habit! I read, I paint, I create beautiful pottery dammit. I care about world events! Or should I just stamp "silly girlie shoe maniac, not to be taken seriously" on my forehead and get it over with? ok fine