It’s really more of an obsession.
I blame my mother, because really, aren’t mothers the root of all one’s problems? But she has more shoes than me. Hundreds of pairs. In every color imaginable. Boots and wedges and mules and strappy sandals. Designer name. Wal-mart specials. She doesn’t discriminate. The only thing she doesn’t own are flats.( She thinks tall is powerful.) As a child I watched her get ready each morning and put on a different pair of shoes. She has enough to go six months straight (maybe more) without repeating. My poor father isn’t allowed to put any clothes in their closet and has been booted to the one in the hallway.
Still the one closet isn’t enough to hold all her belongings. She’s got huge plastic bins in the garage that hold her seasonal wear. How could I not be affected by her obsession? I think she passed it down and as her only daughter I was doomed since birth.
I too love shoes and recently had gone a couple of months without buying any.(Gasp) Until a voice in my head whispered, “You need new shoes.”
Need is the right word. Not WANT because anybody with any kind of addiction knows that until you get your fix, it nags you, taunts you until you go out and take care of it. So I went shopping… with my mother of course and bought three pairs.
I bought these….
And finally these….
A few days later (one) I went out and bought some more.
And finally these…
But it seems I wasn’t done yet. The other day while on an outing in the city I bought a beautiful pair of strappy camel colored wedges. Which were a pain the butt to lug around Mid Town, Manhattan all day. But I had to have them.
Some people collect figurines, others collect albums. I collect shoes.
I think the reason some women have such a connection with shoes is because, unlike clothes they always fit. They can make you feel, sexy or powerful, or sweet, or confident or whatever you need to feel that day. Shoes can make you happy.
And if you are wondering how I afford all of my shoes…. Well, I’m CHEAP. And if I offended you with the pictures of my feet– sorry. I had to show my shoes off.
Oh and one more thing, well actually more like a public service announcement. Take care of your feet, pedicures, even home ones, are necessary. Because nobody wants to see your crusty feet.
Your turn! Do you have an obsession? TV? Collect stamps? Love shoes? Love pedicures? Want to come shoe shopping with me? Any and all comments are welcomed.