Despite what you may have heard, I love shoes. There was a time when I wore stylish heels, strappy sandals and cool Espadrilles.
|These aren’t so bad, are they? My chiropractor thinks they’re hot.|
Then I left my job and stayed home to care for our daughter. Heels gave way to flip flops and Birkenstoks. Yes Kathy Buckworth, I wear Birkenstoks. The way they mold to my feet, even with socks (only around the house, I swear) they’re like a second, tougher, more German-esque skin. I love them to my very sole/soul.
And listen here shoe divas with your stilettos and killer calves, it’s sad that you will never know the pedial joy of Croc flip flops.
And JoAnne, I’m going to come clean. I own Uggs. Two pairs. I adore them and give my Uggs huggs whenever I’m feeling blue.
I enjoy my “comfy” okay? Though I admit after witnessing you ladies rock your hot heels, I wonder if I should give more consideration to the image my shoes project? But, I’m just not convinced that high fashion fand low teasing are worth the price of swollen, blistered, achy feet.
While doing some serious sole searching (Literally. I can’t find my other Ugg slipper anywhere!) this story came back to me…
A few years ago I was working as an elementary teacher at a school in West Toronto. My favourite part of the day, other than being with the children of course, watching them blossom and guiding their learning and blah, blah, blah, was lunch. Not just the meal, though my daily chocolate pudding cup eaten with a cookie spoon was a highlight (you should try it. A shortbread cookie makes one tasty spoon). I relished the time spent with my colleagues. Talking, laughing, eating. Choking. (Laughing and eating…not a good combination. A story for another time. By the way, the Heimlich really DOES work).
Anyway, I was on a bit of a health kick that year. I have no idea why and what happened since. No health kicks to be seen around these parts for ages! Some of the staff members were ordering pizza for lunch. When asked to join, I declined since I was bringing a HEALTHY homemade lunch. I may have even wagged a finger and made a tsk tsk sound.
Each morning I arrived at work (late) and stowed my lunch which I carried in a plastic shopping bag, (classy, I know) in the staffroom fridge. When I returned to the staffroom at lunchtime, the pizza had been delivered and my teacher friends were scarfing it down like a pack of starving hyenas. Disgusting. Teachers eat really fast by the way. Another choking hazard. I strolled over to the fridge and pulled out my shopping bag lunch. I took my place at the table and pronounced that I would be partaking in MY lunch. Not their greasy, artery clogging meal. I sat down and reached in to my bag and pulled out…a pair of winter boots. COLD winter boots, as they’d been in the freaking fridge all morning! Dear god. I had grabbed the wrong bag in my harried race to get out the door that morning. These were my Recess Duty boots, not my healthy, home-cooked and greatly bragged about lunch.
The teasing started at that moment and has continued to this day. Every shoe/boot pun going has been flung my way. Gems about Lisa’s lunch being so tough, it’s like leather. Oh wait, it was leather! Hardy har har. But enough about them and their relentless taunting. This is about me. And my love of shoes.
You can clearly see I love shoes. I love them so much, I nearly ate a pair. How’s that for shoe love?