Fifty nine and counting

No, not my age.  If you thought shoes, you were right on.  I hate shopping, but I love shoes.  I can wear the same heels regardless of what my body tips the scales at.  You can’t do that with blouses, and Heaven forbid, pants.  Okay, so you can do it with jackets.  A button-up jacket morphs into an open bolero on bloated days.

Fond terms describe shoes — cute, comfortable, colorful, and gazillions.  All of them are terms that you would use to describe friends.  Cute trumps tight.  Same with friends.  I have a tightwad friend, but she’s really cute, so I let it slide.

I keep my shoes on an over-the-door hanger on the back of the walk-in closet door.  (My husband loves to hear them clank against the door when he opens it, and even better how the hanger prevents the closet door from closing all the way.)  I keep them under the bed in an infomercial special — the Shoes Under™ box.  I keep them on the shelves of my closet.  I keep them in doorways (that location isn’t intentional; it just happens).

The coolest place to buy shoes is when I’m vacationing and run across a discount mall.  They have an overabundance of shoe stores, and different styles than you find in your own neighborhood.  I once purchased eight pairs on the same day at a mall in Miami, Florida.  They are my Bahama Mama cruisin’ shoes.  I have a pair from San Francisco that flip flops, and a leather pair from the Wis-cán-sin (you have to say it that way) State Fair that still moos.  The only problem with discount malls is sometimes they are short on your size.  I have one such pair.  I fell in love with the shoe, a darling mauve heel, but it’s a full size too small.  My arch pooches up in it like Cinderella’s step sister.  But they are so cute.  Don’t you agree (and great ankles for a grandma, huh?)

I have pairs that match absolutely nothing.  I once decorated a whole room around one pair.  Okay, so it was around the cutest lampshade. 

I have an indoor/outdoor pair for gardening.  I just hose them off and they’re good to go.  I have a pair that talks to me.  The top flap has come loose from the sole, but again, they are so cute. 

Come to think of it, that might be why I kept a couple of my kids during their difficult years — because they were so cute as little kids.

I have a pair that begs me — I’ve tried not to — to tap dance on wood floors.  Actually they belong to my daughter Coco.  Red, white, and black plaid patent leather golf shoes.  She removed the spikes from the bottom of the shoes, but the little metal holes make a fine sound on hardwood.  She got them for a steal at a secondhand store.

My sister once owned (probably still does, because once your favorites, always your favorites), a pair of black and white patent leather oxfords with the longest pointed toes you’ve ever seen in your life.  She took them on a two-year stay in Spain.  Though on a tight budget, when she discovered she’d taken too much stuff, she sent an expensive package home.  At the top of the box, my mom uncovered the scuffed shoes.

Still with all these shoes — happy bare feet are my favorites.  What are your favorites?

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