The Right to Shoes
Friday, March 2, 2012
"You should sell your shoes on eBay," Andy said the other day.
"Yeah," he said, assuming my look of shocked confusion must mean I'd misunderstood. "You should sell them. Make a little cash."
First off, let me state that things are not so dire around here that we are auctioning off our belongings to make ends meet. I'm not sure what motivated Andy to suggest such a ludicrous notion such as me getting rid of my 20+ pairs of shoes. Although, it is true, I'm not a girl who likes excess. If something doesn't have a specific purpose in my life, I get rid of it. I try to live by the William Morris quote: "Have nothing in your house which you do not consider either beautiful or useful."
As much as it pains me, the majority of my shoes never see the light of day anymore. During any given week, my footwear is limited to my monster snow boots and a pair of sensible Dansko sport clogs. If I'm feeling dressy, I'm more apt to grab my green Dansko clogs than a pair of heels or snappy flats.
But I'm certainly not ready to post my shoes on eBay just because they've become little more than dust magnets. There's really no reason to. After all, these are not nice shoes.
I mean, I think they're lovely . . . but it's not like I have a collection of Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blahniks hanging out in my closet. The majority of my shoes are Target's finest, which is to say, I didn't pay more than $20 for them. That means I've invested just $400 in my collection of mostly useless (and worthless) shoes; not nearly as shocking as Carrie Bradshaw's realization in Sex and the City that she's spent $40,000 on her rather valuable shoe collection.
I hate that I fall into the cliches of "all women love shoes", but I do love them, so why fight it. The question is, why? Why have I been drawn to shoes during my early adult years like a moth to the flame?
There's definitely a certain amount of escapism associated with a pair of shoes. Just think of where Dorothy got by clicking her heels together in her ruby slippers. Think of what befell Cinderella when she was hobnobbing around in her glass slippers. Since we were little girls, we were taught that a pair of shoes has the ability to not only protect our feet from a bumpy, rocky road, but to literally transport us to different worlds.
My black pumps make me feel confident and professional. My red shoes are all about sass and good times.On the flip side of the coin, my hiking boots just make my feet feel real heavy.
The shoes hold memories too. There's the pink slingbacks I bought on Oxford Street to wear to High Tea at the Ritz. The green shoes I bought on my way home from work on day in London. The pink shoes I wore to a friend's wedding.
Then there's that never ending quest to find the pair of shoes that perfectly compliments a new dress or outfit. I've bought at least three pairs of shoes to specifically match a single sundress and still haven't quite found the right match yet.
So get rid of my dusty pile of shoes?
I might need them someday.