One, Two, Buckle My Shoe…

Do you ever become obsessed with one subject or object and you can’t stop thinking about it? Recently I’ve become obsessed with shoes. It all started when my feet began to hurt while shopping and that drew my attention to my shoes.

Why aren’t they more comfortable? Have my feet grown as well as the rest of me? Or have my shoes shrunk from being out in that rainstorm last week? Whatever, I must purchase some new shoes, which means another shopping expedition, this time to Payless.

Then my mind wandered to other shoes I have known. Shoes with special powers such as Dorothy’s ruby slippers that could carry her back to Kansas. (Who wants to go back to Kansas?)

And “The Red Shoes” that wouldn’t let Moira Shearer stop dancing.

And the shoes that St. Nicholas fills with toys in some countries at Christmastime. And who can forget the excitement of buying their first pair of school shoes at the Buster Brown store?

I had a hard decision when I received my first paycheck. Should I put it in my savings account or buy an exquisite pair of red high heels? The heels won.

And finally – the book called, “Italian Shoes,” by Henning Mankell. This book is a departure for Mankell from his usual crime novels. It is just a novel. But it is a haunting novel that tends to stay with you. I highly recommend it, even if you have no particular interest in shoes. The Italian shoes play a minor part in the story, although it is the title.

“There was an old woman who lived in a shoe…” I better quit before I go completely barmy.

Robin Hathaway

More about Shoes

Inspired by a discussion on Facebook, I put up a post on my personal blog page last Monday musing and meditating on shoes. Shoes I have known, and shoes I have desired. Sounds almost like blogging about men, doesn't it? Actually there are parallels, if you think about it. Not for nothing do we say, "So-and-so is as comfortable as an old shoe." And we all know men who are desperately attractive, but we don't want them because we know they will hurt us too much.

But I digress. I was talking about shoes. One of the Facebook friends mentioned Fluevogs and included a link. Naturally I followed it. I was truly impressed.

The Fluevog people will not only sell you the shoes, they will sell you parts for the shoes. These babies are built to last for many seasons. The Toyota of shoes. Replace the lifts, change the points and plugs and you're good to go for another 3,000 miles. Do Christian Louboutin and Jimmy Choo do that? I don't think so. By the time their soles and lifts wear out they're out of style, either that or you've fallen off them and turned your ankle, so that you vow to wear nothing but Birkenstocks for the rest of your life, and the hell with Anna Wintour.

I'm tempted. Fluevogs are a bit pricey, but they're about two-thirds of what you'd pay for Chie Mihara shoes, my other secret lust. I ask myself: do they pass the Life Test? Could I stand up in them and sing in the church choir for two hours? Could I keep smiling through a three-hour cocktail party? Could I get them on and off easily in an airport security line? Could I run from one terminal to another fast enough to make my connection?

Of course they're cute. Kinky, in a comfortable way. It might be that I'd want to spend time with them for years to come. Kind of like my man, come to think of it.

Kate Gallison