a shoe's life
There is always a great deal of excitement that comes with buying a new pair of shoes. Trying them on you never really know if they are going to work for you and a thousand questions can race through your mind - They're a little snug, but they'll stretch out. Right? How many pairs of brown shoes do I own? What can I wear these with? - These are all valid questions and concerns and if you can get to the other side of them, you'll buy the shoes. Any hang ups and you have to move on.
I have purchased shoes that I wore out of the store. This happened more in my youth, but it happens now, on occasion, when I DO need to stretch them out or if the shoes I wore into the store look like dogshit compared to what I am buying. (This happens with clothes too. You enter the dressing room, put on a new shirt. Look it over, like it, then take it off and put your burlap sack back on) New shoes are full of hope and usefulness and the self-imposed rules that you place on them fill you full of hope for a more colorful future. Some people see their shoes as conversation pieces or items to be used to inspire envy in others. I know many, many souls like this. These are the shoes! These are the shoes that you have waited your whole life for and there is no way that you are going to scuff them, wear them in the rain, mud or snow. There is no way that these shoes will ever know abuse. They shall be used sparingly so that they might be useful forever. They shall last me until the day I die. Because, these are your magic new shoes.
Then... That day... First scuff. First drop of spaghetti sauce. First puddle. First pile of dog shit. First fray. The worst thing that could possible happen, happened, and all bets are off. The shoes are worthless and just filler for your closet floor. The life of those shoes just saw its clock start.
In my world, I am surrounded by mud, various forms of animal shit, automotive goo, wood particles, hay and just general yuckiness that can ruin a pair of shoes in a flash. I have accidentally worn a pair of shoes that I purchase for my stage work, back home after a long tour and, squish! A Heidi surprise! And those shoes become another pair of what we like to call around here, "Farm Shoes". Shoes that you could care less about. You would wear them white water rafting, when shoveling horse surprises, or to paint the house.
My shoe closet contains...
One pair black combat boots. My favorite and most comfy foot wear.
Three pair brown work boots. I can't let go of them.
Four pair running shoes. One I run in, three I can't let go of. ( I might go white water rafting)
Five pair of black dress shoes. I wear none of them and have no idea where they are.
One pair of slippers.
Five pairs of brown work/dress shoes. One I wear, the rest are relics that I can't get rid of.
One pair of Nazi jack boots.
This is the life of most of you. We have the shoes we wear and the shoes that we used to wear and once loved, but can't get rid of. We have shoes that we purchased with the best intentions and they never worked out, but we hope that some day they will. These are the shoes that enter our minds when we are shopping for new shoes. These are the "flip side" shoes. The examples of bad purchases that we hope to avoid with each new shoe purchase. No one needs two pairs of black shoes that they will never wear. And most of us have a problem giving our paid for shoes to charity.
Man, I have a lot of shoes. I should get rid of them. I am sure that some poor person would love a pair of shoes covered in paint, cranberry sauce and Heidi Surprise.
Sadly, I don't have shoe caddy or a shoe rack or a shoe shelf or anything like that to organize my shoes and they just live in poorly organized rows on the floor of my room. Some of them are under the bed, out of my sight, so I won't wear them. Some of them are in plain sight and get worn a lot, but they are kicked around a great deal. Some of them are in other rooms, where they were kicked off after their last use. I am not that great at putting them in their "place" when I'm done with them. I lack Shoe Respect. A sure sign that I am not a shoe fetishist.
Shoes. Foot attire. The lowest form of fashion on the body. Is one of the largest fetishes in the world. There are people that love them, people that crave them, people that cannot stop buying them and there are people for whom shoes are a real problem. The equity in their shoes is enough to purchase a small house.
Of course, there are people for whom shoes are just foot warmers. People that would rather duct tape their shoes together as opposed to buying a new pair. These people own, max - four pairs of shoes - black, brown, tennis and their old baby shoes that were given to them by their mother. For these people, we need to bow our heads in a moment of silence.
I just recently lost a pair of shoes from the "high-hopes" category to the "farm shoes" designation. It was a misstep on my part, but now the glorious pair of winter slippers have been tainted by outdoor surprises and I have to let them go. Thankfully they are cheap enough to replace. Sadly, when a slipper goes bad, there is no second use for them. I doubt highly, that I would ever wear them white water rafting.
I have purchased shoes that I wore out of the store. This happened more in my youth, but it happens now, on occasion, when I DO need to stretch them out or if the shoes I wore into the store look like dogshit compared to what I am buying. (This happens with clothes too. You enter the dressing room, put on a new shirt. Look it over, like it, then take it off and put your burlap sack back on) New shoes are full of hope and usefulness and the self-imposed rules that you place on them fill you full of hope for a more colorful future. Some people see their shoes as conversation pieces or items to be used to inspire envy in others. I know many, many souls like this. These are the shoes! These are the shoes that you have waited your whole life for and there is no way that you are going to scuff them, wear them in the rain, mud or snow. There is no way that these shoes will ever know abuse. They shall be used sparingly so that they might be useful forever. They shall last me until the day I die. Because, these are your magic new shoes.
Then... That day... First scuff. First drop of spaghetti sauce. First puddle. First pile of dog shit. First fray. The worst thing that could possible happen, happened, and all bets are off. The shoes are worthless and just filler for your closet floor. The life of those shoes just saw its clock start.
In my world, I am surrounded by mud, various forms of animal shit, automotive goo, wood particles, hay and just general yuckiness that can ruin a pair of shoes in a flash. I have accidentally worn a pair of shoes that I purchase for my stage work, back home after a long tour and, squish! A Heidi surprise! And those shoes become another pair of what we like to call around here, "Farm Shoes". Shoes that you could care less about. You would wear them white water rafting, when shoveling horse surprises, or to paint the house.
My shoe closet contains...
One pair black combat boots. My favorite and most comfy foot wear.
Three pair brown work boots. I can't let go of them.
Four pair running shoes. One I run in, three I can't let go of. ( I might go white water rafting)
Five pair of black dress shoes. I wear none of them and have no idea where they are.
One pair of slippers.
Five pairs of brown work/dress shoes. One I wear, the rest are relics that I can't get rid of.
One pair of Nazi jack boots.
This is the life of most of you. We have the shoes we wear and the shoes that we used to wear and once loved, but can't get rid of. We have shoes that we purchased with the best intentions and they never worked out, but we hope that some day they will. These are the shoes that enter our minds when we are shopping for new shoes. These are the "flip side" shoes. The examples of bad purchases that we hope to avoid with each new shoe purchase. No one needs two pairs of black shoes that they will never wear. And most of us have a problem giving our paid for shoes to charity.
Man, I have a lot of shoes. I should get rid of them. I am sure that some poor person would love a pair of shoes covered in paint, cranberry sauce and Heidi Surprise.
Sadly, I don't have shoe caddy or a shoe rack or a shoe shelf or anything like that to organize my shoes and they just live in poorly organized rows on the floor of my room. Some of them are under the bed, out of my sight, so I won't wear them. Some of them are in plain sight and get worn a lot, but they are kicked around a great deal. Some of them are in other rooms, where they were kicked off after their last use. I am not that great at putting them in their "place" when I'm done with them. I lack Shoe Respect. A sure sign that I am not a shoe fetishist.
Shoes. Foot attire. The lowest form of fashion on the body. Is one of the largest fetishes in the world. There are people that love them, people that crave them, people that cannot stop buying them and there are people for whom shoes are a real problem. The equity in their shoes is enough to purchase a small house.
Of course, there are people for whom shoes are just foot warmers. People that would rather duct tape their shoes together as opposed to buying a new pair. These people own, max - four pairs of shoes - black, brown, tennis and their old baby shoes that were given to them by their mother. For these people, we need to bow our heads in a moment of silence.
I just recently lost a pair of shoes from the "high-hopes" category to the "farm shoes" designation. It was a misstep on my part, but now the glorious pair of winter slippers have been tainted by outdoor surprises and I have to let them go. Thankfully they are cheap enough to replace. Sadly, when a slipper goes bad, there is no second use for them. I doubt highly, that I would ever wear them white water rafting.
posted by Daniel Loomis | 11:57 AM
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