I’m no Carrie Bradshaw, but I do love shoes. And I even enjoy shoe shopping. Or at least I used to. But this weekend I realized that I have reached a new low, literally, in my shoe wearing career. Is it the end of the sexy high heel for me?
My daughter is getting married next month. I have my dress, a burgundy red flowing number with a bit of cleavage (she approved this) and a bit of a trailing hem. It calls out for high heels. At least a few inches high. And because it is a Christmas wedding, perhaps a little sparkle.
I have tried on a few pairs and then tried to walk in them. And I just can’t pull it off the way I used to. And even if I could walk in the bejeweled strappy stilettos I am drawn to, they hurt my feet! And I am not willing to make the sacrifice of pain for beauty. So I will have to go low. And probably even wide.
More than a decade as a yogi, walking around barefoot whenever possible, has allowed my once average feet to spread a bit. And pitching all my none-too-petite body weight forward into a pointy toe box leaves me feeling like Cinderella’s step sister, forcing her fat foot into the glass slipper. Well, that dainty Cinder-bitch is welcome to the shoe and the wimpy prince.
But what the hell are my feet going to wear to this wedding?
I’ve always thought that God assigns each women a set amount of time to wear high heels, and I have used mine up. My earlier career mandated the wearing of sexy high heels eight hours in a row. I’ve had my time. As an early childhood teacher, there is simply no need to wear those type of shoes. And my love life has been rather sparse for the past decade, so no date shoes reside in my closet. I am not only out of practice, I am totally out of sexy shoes.
I need to make a purchase!
My daughters indulged me this weekend as I visited them and we shopped near Seattle. We searched in vain for the perfect shoe, even visiting a specialty shop named Only Wide Shoes when we realized how difficult it is to find wide shoes on the shelves. But the shoes in that store looked like they were made for dowdy old ladies. I passed on that.
At Payless I lusted after a four inch stiletto encrusted in glitter. My daughters snickered as I took a few steps and almost face-planted in the aisle. At Nordstroms a nice salesman showed us the only shoe in the entire store that came in a wide width. They were a velvet black…loafer. No way. They were also over a hundred bucks.
So I’m back at square one, with no shoes. My plan is to order a bunch of shoe options online that offer free returns and hope for the best.
Sigh. Getting older requires a lot of letting go.
But, let’s get some shoes….