I'm having shoe drama. Shoe angst. Shoe obsession. This happens to me every once in a while. It's probably not good. Yet another example, as a matter of fact, of a small way in which it would benefit me to just CHILL OUT. But, being me, that's not likely to happen, so I'll blog about it, instead.
You see before you every single pair of shoes I own, for every season of the year:
Not such a big pile, compared to what many people own, but ridiculous from my perspective. (I always think of the people in Haiti, for instance. Meh.) Back in High School I developed the philosophy that I only needed a pair of black flats, blue flats, white flats, and sneakers (as cheap as possible, too. My husband and I used to argue over whether one should spend good money on quality shoes. He's won the argument and my bad back helped him win). Over the years my "simple shoes philosophy" has grown a little bit, but I've been thinking a lot about it these days, and would like to get even more basic. You see, I have this dream...I dream of the perfect utilitarian pair of shoes that will somehow suit every single occasion of my life (even if making me appear somewhat eccentric or mismatched) and that I would be OK with that. I imagine myself blissfully donning black sneakers and black tights on all occasions, with all my outfits. Sort of a bland, shoe uniform. And I imagine myself being OK with that. But then there's reality. I would fret. I would feel OK about such a choice sometimes, but then at other times I would worry about being weird. See above on the comment about chilling out. Yes, I know.
So, having lined up all my shoes as you see above, I had some hard choices to make. So many of those shoes, especially my beloved birkenstock sandals and my adorable chako sandals simply don't work anymore since I got prescription custom orthotics for my shoes. And yes, my back is MUCH better with the orthotics, so the sacrifice is worth it. But it makes me sad. Those sandals, each and every pair, sort of represent an evolution of my learning to take care of my body's needs, even when those needs are somewhat expensive. They were the best shoes I could wear. But the custom orthotics are better. I wish a company existed that made custom orthotic sandals. I would SO be a customer! But I digress.
It's time to let those shoes go. So here's what's left after I eliminate the shoes that don't work with the orthotics:
Now, not all of these shoes are wonderfully supportive, but they are all sufficiently flat to accomodate the inserts. But truthfully, I've not done myself ANY favors by slouching around in flip flops (even with orthotics velcroed in) all summer long. And those black canvas cheapos are not very cushiony. Also a problem. So, if I set aside to only wear very occasionally for short amounts of time the shoes that aren't all that good for my back, here's what's left: I really should have eliminated the black shoes in the front row as well, in the last purge, because I would only wear them like twice a year on a Sunday morning, and they are only so-so for my back, since they have a tiny heel. But I digress.
And I discovered that the sneakers are worn out and have a huge crack in the sole.
So I guess I'm going to be shoe shopping for sneakers soon, after all. With my small selection of "church shoes", I'm thinking those sneakers are going to be black. Mostly so that they aren't as glaring as white athletic shoes would be if I wear them with my normal clothes (99.9% of the time I wear skirts) as every day shoes. I notice that with supportive shoes on my feet I get up and move more, take more steps each day. I've been tracking with a pedometer lately, and it does make a difference. So, I'm back to the point I was making at the beginning of my post: Bring on the black sneakers! But I'll have a very few pairs of decent shoes in reserve for dress-up occasions. Perhaps that will suit me best.
What are your favorite shoes?