One of my Fierce Fashionista Friends (side bar: you can get by without a BFF as long as you have a few good FFFs) from work just gave me a novel called "Shoe Addicts Anonymous". I basically devoured it in one Sunday-afternoon sitting, not so much because of the plotlines or the characters, but for the fact that it was spot-on in its revelations about how we girls feel about shoes. It's not enough that we keep our feet protected from the elements... No, ma'am, shoes are an extension of how we see ourselves. Or how we want to be seen.
My mother is on vacation in a tropical paradise right now. Want to guess what kind of pictures she is texting to my cell phone? Ocean views? Palm trees? Nope. She's taking pictures of her feet in a pair of sassy new black and white peeptoes, with the caption "Luv Them!" and I have to agree, they are fabulous indeed.
Some of my earliest memories as a little girl are of new shoes. You may be tempted to point out how shallow that sounds, but six-year olds are nothing if not shallow. And think about it: back then, the act of shopping for shoes always heralded the arrival of something momentous. Easter, for example, meant you went in search of white patent. The first day of school always scored you a new pair of tennis shoes. Summer vacation ushered in those flat leather sandals that buckled at the ankle and had the strap between the toes... it took almost all summer to get used to that strap, but those sandals were a childhood ritual. There was electricity in the air when you and your mom stepped into Thom McCann or Stride-Rite, and you eased your foot into that cold steel thingie that measured your still-growing foot. And let's not forget the heady tingle of anticipation as you waited for the salesman to return with a few boxes of shoes for trying on. Mind you, having your toe pinched to see where the tip was in relation to the end of the shoe was no picnic, but it was a small price to pay for shoes you just knew would help you run faster. Assign major bonus points if you were able to talk mom into letting you put your old shoes in the box so you could take those first glorious steps outside the store in your new ones!
Not too long ago, my little girlfriends who grew up with me reminded me of a pretty embarrassing habit I had as a child. We all attended church together for years, their family sitting one row behind my family, week after week. And if I was sporting new shoes, the show was on: while standing for the invitation song, I would invariably find it necessary to rest one foot on the pew behind me-- putting said new shoes on full display for all interested parties to admire. Ok, so I was both shallow and a show-off... we'll blame that on being an only child. But let's face it, in the kid universe, fresh kicks rule.
Fast-forward 25 years to Sex And The City... every woman on the planet relates to SATC, and one of the central characters is essentially the Manolo Blahnik stiletto. Really, the Manolo is cougar number five. One of my male friends refers to the show as MAWOSB (Middle-Aged Women On Spring Break), which I find amusing because if hot, trendy thirty-somethings went on spring break together, their first adventure would most likely be shopping for shoes. And that's because new shoes are "sex in a box". Pure, dazzling, tissue-wrapped pleasure that never fails to excite.
For all of my adult life, my weight has yo-yo'd constantly. Unfortunately, there's about a 40-pound swing, which means at the top end I have to sacrifice the really cute clothes. But not the shoes. The shoes are faithful... they don't judge between size 8 or 14. They have your well-heeled back, either way. And you can even stay off your feet while adding to your collection, through the joys of online shopping. You should see my eBay Favorites list. It reads like a Who's Who of the blissfully bipedal: BCBG, Michael Kors, Moschino, Stuart Weitzman, Via Spiga. And one of these days, my scarlet-soled Louboutin... one of these days...
Men just don't get it, though. The obsession with shoes is definitely one of the more highly-evolved of the sexes, save a few metro-minded QE types. Ladies, how many of you have heard, "Why do you need so many shoes?" I know, it's an absurd question only a man would ask. They're not responsible for their lack of understanding and secret jealousy of our insatiable passion for shoes. Who could blame them, really? It's just that shoes kick-in so many positive attributes:
- STYLE. It's all about looking cute (for other girls). Or looking hot (for guys). Well, unless it's about comfort (which it rarely is), but you still don't want to hike in spikes-- so let's leave it at being appropriately stylish.
- VARIETY. We can indulge in a different shoe for every whim, mood, outfit, venue or activity. And since it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind, variety is of utmost importance.
- VALUE. The only thing we like more than a footwear bargain is telling all of our girlfriends about a footwear bargain. But admittedly we do like it better if the telling is in response to a compliment on the bargain item.
- CONSISTENCY. Boyfriends, jobs, hairstyles, hemlines, your taste in music, maybe even your best friend, and definitely (in my experience) your dress-size will change. But the one unwavering staple of your adult life is your shoe size, which makes shoes the perfect...
- INVESTMENT. If you buy quality shoes and stick with classic styles, you can wear them 'til the heel caps are worn through or you're simply tired of looking at them and decide to put them in your next garage sale.
- SELF-ESTEEM. Straight up, a new pair of shoes will make you feel like a girl. Giddy. Sexy. Invincible. Trying on any other item of clothing? Not so much. Jeans, bathing suits, bras... they all have the capacity to deal an ego-crushing blow that can send you face-first into the soothing embrace of Ben & Jerry faster than you can say "wedges are hot for fall". Shoes, on the other hand (or foot), always rise to the occasion.
Well, that's enough of the shoe review for now. I'll cap this off by reminding everyone that the dog is commonly regarded man's best friend. Undoubtedly, shoes are woman's best friend. A sleek little pair of kitten heels may not fetch your newspaper or greet you at the door with a wagging tail, but they also won't chew up your favorite... shoes! (Anyone else see the irony that man's best friend has been the destroyer of many a favorite pump?)
Anyway, shoes are ever-comforting, never judgmental, quick to boost your feelings of self-worth, and help you express your individuality. And isn't that the role of any true friend, afterall?
