Friday, September 20, 2013

Fashion is a Two-Faced Bitch: You Can't Trust Shoes

It was a typical Wednesday afternoon at DSW. The stilletos were preening, the men's tennis shoes were trying to look masculine, as were the women's tennis shoes.  The women's were winning.  The hiking shoes were making fun of the extra wide sizes, the flip flops were being all nonchalant, and back on the sale rack, the purple dotted clearance shoes waited in a dejected slump, while the blue dotted shoes still maintained a healthy optimism.  The running shoes were running in place, and timing themselves.  The sales clerks went about their duties oblivious to the cacophony.

I had barely made it through the door when I was bombarded on all sides with shoe pitches:

"Hey Lady, You like?  Me love you long time" 

"Girlfriend.....This is your lucky day"

"We're too good for you, don't even come over here, we'll slap you  We don't care how much money you have, we will break. your. ankle if you even try us on."  (reverse shoe psychology. It's over my head)

"Ooooohhhh hi!  HI!  Over here!  See us!  Ohhhh we're so comfortable you won't believe it.  You can run in us. Didn't you see the commercial?  Try it, you'll see! " 

And cat calls:

"Well,  looky what we got here. Looks like we got ourselves a Lookie-Lou, fellas!"

"Whatchu lookin for, Baby? We got whatchu need, right boys?"

The bored whispers:

"She wouldn't know an age-appropriate pair of shoes if they stepped on her toes and sang the Star Spangled Banner.  Just ignore her girls."

"She couldn't walk in us if she tried!"

"ssshhhh.  She's not one of our kind"

The taunts:

"Clearance shopper.  Don't even waste your breath kids.  Hey. Purples.  Incoming!!"

"OMG, Chicken, do you even look in the mirror before you leave your house?"

"Ha.  Good luck with those cankles.  I think you're going to need a bigger shoe!"

And finally, the pity talk:

"Poor dear.  She's let herself go"

"Ohh...she seems nice...we should  try and help."

And amazingly,  through it all, the sales clerks remained oblivious.  Not one approached. I was left on my own to deal with the onslaught of judgement, harassment, snobbery and pity in this lonely shoe city.  I really just needed one good friend. One good  pair of black pumps that I could wear for a season; classic, comfortable, not too pricey and wide enough to accommodate the bunions.  Was it too much to ask?

I headed for the back of the store to the clearance rack.  You never know what you might find in the aisle of misfit shoes.  The purples shivered in their boxes, cowering away from the Toes Who Ate Tokyo. The blues wanted nothing to do with me.  The Greens refused to yield a shoe in my size.  The cacophony grew even louder,  I got overwhelmed.  I was about to give up and then I heard it.

A quiet, elegant voice from the end of aisle 5 called to me.  It said, "You should try me on,  Dear.  I think we might be a perfect match."  It was a pair of  Joan and David black leather kitten heels. They were a  classic pair of shoes with a reserved air, and heels that could back a chicken up through a long day of sales calls.  And they had a purple dot. 75% off?  Oh happy day!   But would they fit?  They would!

I bought them at once.   They thanked me for saving them from the hell of 300 sweaty feet per day trying to force a way inside their roomy toe boxes.  I wore them to work the next day, excited to have finally found a pair of moderate height shoes that I could walk in all day.  Or at least until 9:30 am.

At 9:30 am, my shoes and my feet started getting snippy with each other:

"You said you were a size 9. I think you lied.  You're a size 8.5, don't deny."

"I'm a size 9, you impudent peasants. YOU claimed to be a size 9 when clearly you are a size 9.5!  This would never happen in Europe. In Europe, feet know their size!"

"Oh yeah?  Well, in Europe, all the shoes have Mad Cow Disease!"

"You feet are such cretins.   How did we ever get stuck on you!"

"Oh, well, feel free to leave any time, Queens O' De Nile"

"Would that we could, but you ignorant feet have swollen so much we can't escape"

"Hey!  Hey,  you up there!  Call the rescue!  We're going to need the jaws of life to get free of these bitches."

"I'm not going down alone, feet.  I will take you with me."

And this is why I hate shoes.  They all turn on you.  Eventually.

They look trustworthy .  So did Ted Bundy.


  1. This was such fun for a person like me, who is hopelessly, utterly, and completely addicted to shoes. Yes, I do know those voices you hear.

    1. Hi Shelly-I buy a lot of shoes. I like shoes. But they seem to just be using me to escape their retail environs so that they can come home with me and live a life of leisure in my closet. I'm working through it in therapy.

  2. Really? Shoes?? Really??? Maybe a nice pair of steel toes but dress shoes?

    Now tools, There's a store section that will get the heart pumping. Wrenches that like to break loose, saws that like to cut up and drivers that like to ..... Well you get the point.

    1. SS, we all have our struggles. I struggle with fashion on a daily basis. Hey, you could write a post about the hardware store!

  3. DSW is one of my favorite places.



    1. Pearl, DSW is like mecca. There should be some kind of required class on fiscal responsibility before you're even allowed entrance to that place!

  4. Replies
    1. Thanks Troutbirder. It's nice of you to visit. I just left a message over on your page:-)

  5. If the picture is, in fact, the pumps of which you speak, then you and I have wildly different definitions of "roomy toe box", because I can spot those bitches for toe stranglers from 300 miles away - and they don't even have to say a word.


    1. GG! This is not the actual pair, but the shape is similar. The "True" story, because we both know I make crap up ALL the time, is that I bought the shoes on clearance last year, wore them all last winter, didn't wear them all summer, and now I can't seem to tolerate them. Sometime over the winter me feet grew. Feet are sneaky. They are probably sneakier than shoes.

  6. I feel your pain (literally feel it, when I wear anything besides sneakers). And it's only getting worse the older I get ...

    1. Jenny-Yes! This is my problem Getting older. My feet just want to be in cozy fuzzy socks. They are getting crotchety. I have twin curmudgeons attached to my ankles where my feet used to be.

  7. And painful, right Lynne?

  8. Gosh! You are delightful!
    And so clever to find my blog. . . you are welcome ANYTIME

    ALOHA from Honolulu
    Comfort Spiral
    =^..^= <3

    1. Hi Cloudia-thank you! Aloha to you and I will be checking back in to your blog soon for some sunshine and inspiration.

  9. Laughing out loud. I wrote the same kind of post about buying a purse: "Hey babe, slide your hand down my back pocket."

    Oh isn't writing fun? Isn't shoe shopping the pits? If I lived in a tropical climate, I'd live in flip-flops. We don't refer to them as thongs anymore...well you get the picture.

    1. Hi Linda, That sounds like my kind of post. I'm going to have to go back and look it up. Shoe shopping is a nicer alternative to jean shopping, in my book, and is way, way ahead of bathing suit shopping, but not as fun as Christmas shopping. As long as the store is empty and you have a list, and the store has everything you want laid out in a practical manner....ahhh well. I guess it is all relative:-)

    2. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  10. HA! Such a fun post (my bunions are in complete agreement with yours)--you are very clever. Thanks so much for your visit.

    1. Hi DS, thank you. Bunions are the worst, aren't they?

  11. I’ve just visited and read some of your back catalogue thanks to Hilary (congrats, btw. on potw)

    I love your sense of humour. I’m staying.

    1. Hi Friko, Thanks so much for visiting and staying. I enjoyed your blog, as well. Good luck with your Gardener situation.


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