ShoeSense

Shoes as props for character

Sometimes, shoes can be pretty darn uncomfortable with or without high heels. Narrow toeboxes, stiff backs, inflexible soles, and the like, can easily plague any shoe, with or without the added discomfort of the high heel. Behold this example:

Aerosoles is a brand that takes pride in its comfortable, stylish, and reasonably priced shoes. Right? I own a few pairs, most of which are comfortable, though not particularly well made--I don't expect to get a lot of mileage out of them, plus they're likely to look pretty ratty in a short time. I got the pair above for a specific purpose: to match a beautiful orange and green bag, so beautiful in fact that it deserves an entry on its own.

I expected these mules to be comfortable--after all, they were Aerosoles, had a low heel and a square toebox, plus they were as cute as a button. Wrong! They turned out to have a hidden monster inside them whose only food of choice was my little pinky. The pain was so intense that 1/2 mile proved too much; and then, my poor little toe looked like a blob of raw ground meat for a few hours. I kept them in my closet for a year, mulling over whether to give them another try or not. The specter of the pinky-gnawing monster inside them, however, turned me off, and they now rest at Sophisticated Seconds (the South and 23rd location, my consignment boutique of choice).

They were accompanied by this pair of wedges:


Now, I love wedges just like any other gal (even when they're high they can be comfortable), but these were left untouched all through last summer, and I have to admit that they're sort of blah. I mean, they're neutral enough to go with just about anything, but really, if you go one entire season without touching a pair of not particularly enticing shoes, it's time for them to go.

I was most sorry, however, to let go of these kick-ass Unisa red leather mules:

Why? Well, because, just like clothes, accessories, and objects we surround ourselves with in general, these were sort of symbolic of the stage in my life I was at. Just over a particularly significant relationship with a particularly painful end, I bought this pair because they supplied an element of confidence where I had none. I was pretty broken inside, but I resolved to pick myself together out of the dust, and what better way to rise above the dust than with a pair of blood-red 3 1/2 inch shoes, which, on top of everything, were also surprisingly comfortable (the sporty rubber sole must have had something to do with it, plus they hugged the foot rather well). Wearing them was sure to attract attention, and made me 6'2" tall (no, literally). From that height, I could tell just anyone to f@#$ the h#$% off if I so pleased. Nobody--nobody!--was going to mess around with an amazon in pointy, high-heeled red shoes.

In the end, it wasn't the shoes that restored my confidence in myself, of course, though they played their part in shaping my general attitude at the moment. I'm well over that episode now, and again, I find that I haven't really touched these shoes in a year and a half or so. That, together my growing intolerance to high heels, and an awareness that I should rid myself of a painful past as soon as possible, or as often as necessary, contributed to my decision to drop these shoes off together with the other two pairs.

The red shoes served their purpose; it's time for me to move on to footwear that molds to my (hopefully stronger and more confident) personality, rather than for me to mold myself around the shoe.

posted by Cristina Hanganu-Bresch @ 4:48 PM