They say you can tell a lot about a person by the shoes s/he wears. I surely hope not. If shoes were represented by TV shows, mine would call up images of Golden Girls, when, at heart, I’m really Game of Thrones or Sex and the City
You see, I’m an Imelda Marcos wannabe. When the Marcos’ palace in the Philippines was stormed after the overthrow of her dictator husband, over 2700 pairs of shoes were found in her closet. I wouldn’t really need that many to be happy. She had manufacturers delivering 10 pairs a week to her door, I’d just be satisfied if the postman didn’t have to cart away almost the exact same miniscule number he delivers.
My fascination with shoes started at around age 8. A diagnosis of “flat feet” destined me to ugly, black, man-shoes in fifth grade. Just about the time I cared what boys thought, I found myself wearing boy repellents. I greedily eyed those Keds, PF Flyers, and even the hand-me-down saddle shoes my friends wore.
If I had moderate difficulty finding shoes in stores throughout most of my life, the internet has removed all possibility. It’s as easy to find an 11 Narrow in a store now as it is to find a Democrat in the White House during Trump’s reign. Even online, 11 N has become as rare as a dodo bird in heels.
I long for a return to the day of the cobbler, where you’d walk in, he’d measure your feet, and you’d come back for a pair of shoes designed exactly for you! I’m seriously thinking of taking a class in shoe making. I’d design shoes for those with the wildest tastes — á la John Fluevog — and the largest and smallest feet, because I’m certain I’m not the only odd woman out. I bet even Cinderella would be forced to wear flip flops to the ball in this age of the internet.
Just this week, I saw that my friend Thomas Warfield is hosting an event as part of the Rochester Fringe Festival that’s entitled “My Life with 400 Pairs of Shoes.” He’ll showcase his shoe collection of 40 years by sharing life and shoe stories – and he has some real sparklers, in both!
If I did a version of his show, mine would be more like Dr. Seuss’ “Fox in Socks.”
Two Socks!
No Shoes?
Got those no new shoes blues.
Out on a Limb 