Pink Shoes
I have been a shoe afficianado since I was a kid and had to wear orthopedic shoes for my flat feet. I was envious of the other little girls who could wear those cute little black patent leather maryjanes. My mother made me wear a pair of velvet oxfords, and I hated them because they looked like boy's shoes.
I made a fuss until she bought me a pair of maryjanes. They weren't black patent, but a red leather--a color that was referred to as oxblood. I loved them.
If I had to wear orthopedic shoes, they'd at least be stylish.
This evening, when I got home from work, I kicked my shoes off and into the corner of the room where my shoes seem to congregate. It's over by a red-trimmed, black trunk where I keep some of my equipment. On top are three pairs of shoes--a pair of fire engine red ankle strap six inch stilettos from the Porno-Mart, a pair of four inch pink Thalia Soldi sandals from K-Mart, and a pair of black pin-toe stiletto mid-calf leather boots from Target. Also sitting on the trunk are my police hat, a pair of antique vinyl gloves from the '60's.
But the strangest thing is that, in front of this display, are three other pairs of pink shoes.
I never thought I would own a total of four pairs of pink shoes.
In my rockabilly days, about 20 years ago, I had a pair of pink shoes to go with both my pink tafetta evening gown and my shocking pink velvet cocktail dress ensemble. But I never had more than one pair of pink shoes.
I never really needed more than one pair of pink shoes. How did I end up with four?
Well, the first pair, the ones on the trunk, I bought last year, sometime close to the end of summer. I wanted them to match a chemise--a bit of dressing up for Lucky Bastard, I think.
I wore them. He didn't really notice. But they nicely matched the chemise, and I looked very cute. (he did, however, notice when I wore the red ones with a white garter belt and stockings--and made him fasten one of the garters for me)
The second pair are pink 2 inch heels from Payless. They have a silver button on one side, and pointy toes. Rather 60's looking. They looked great last night with short-shorts and an ivory and silver lace tank top. I'm sure there are people who think I have alot of nerve walking around in a pair of short-shorts at my weight and advanced age, but, hey, I really don't care.
That outfit made me feel special--pretty. Which is odd for me.
The other pair are cute ones from Target--Isaac Mizrahi kitten heel sandals with two criss cross straps in the front adorned with blossoms. They remind me of cherry blossoms, and I had Steady Eddie buy them for me just because I liked them. And I think I needed them to go with something, but I don't remember what.
The fourth pair are from Torrid. If you don't know, Torrid shops are like Hot Topic for big-boned girls. And I *do indeed* mean big boned. Torrid carries clothing in my size, but the proportions and cuts do not fit on my average frame body. There just isn't enough hip on me to fill out the skirts, and not enough ribcage to fill out the shirts.
And apparently, not enough foot to fill out the shoes.
They're a pretty dark pink ankle tie sandal with a sisal covered wedge heel. I bought them because I heard wedge heels were "in" this summer. When I wear them with capris or shorts, I look kind of like a Vargas girl pinup that eared a few extra brush strokes. The shoes are in my size, but, strangely, they're a tad wide. Funny, there was nothing on the box to tell me they are *wide* size 7.
Then again, in Torrid, I'm a size 0. It's all about the illusion of being average sized--even in footwear.
I bought these shoes to wear with a dress I bought four years ago at the time of graduation. I was going to wear the dress when I was in Vegas, but I never had a proper time to wear it, nor a proper pair of shoes to go with it. The dress still fits, and now I have the shoes, albeit they are a bit wide.
So, as I sit on the edge of my bed, and look at these four pairs of pink shoes, and realize they are not Manolos or Jimmy Choos, or Aldos' or Nine West's, and maybe I'm nothing more than some poor girl with a bunch of cheap footwear, but even though these pink shoes might not be so special and expensive, they are kind of special to me. I never really had this many pairs of pink shoes--or this many pairs pink shoes that appear to have their own individual reasons for being in my household.
Yet when it really comes down to it, I didn't buy all those cheap pink shoes for all the reasons I said.
I bought them because they are girly. I'm often not perceived as girly, and figured some pretty footwear might help.
Maybe they do, and maybe they don't. I don't really know and it doesn't really matter.
All that matters is that they make *me* feel in a way I haven't felt in a very long time.
And now that I'm not working retail and confined to wearing more black than an undertaker, I can wear them whenever I want.
Perhaps tomorrow...for no reason at all...
I made a fuss until she bought me a pair of maryjanes. They weren't black patent, but a red leather--a color that was referred to as oxblood. I loved them.
If I had to wear orthopedic shoes, they'd at least be stylish.
This evening, when I got home from work, I kicked my shoes off and into the corner of the room where my shoes seem to congregate. It's over by a red-trimmed, black trunk where I keep some of my equipment. On top are three pairs of shoes--a pair of fire engine red ankle strap six inch stilettos from the Porno-Mart, a pair of four inch pink Thalia Soldi sandals from K-Mart, and a pair of black pin-toe stiletto mid-calf leather boots from Target. Also sitting on the trunk are my police hat, a pair of antique vinyl gloves from the '60's.
But the strangest thing is that, in front of this display, are three other pairs of pink shoes.
I never thought I would own a total of four pairs of pink shoes.
In my rockabilly days, about 20 years ago, I had a pair of pink shoes to go with both my pink tafetta evening gown and my shocking pink velvet cocktail dress ensemble. But I never had more than one pair of pink shoes.
I never really needed more than one pair of pink shoes. How did I end up with four?
Well, the first pair, the ones on the trunk, I bought last year, sometime close to the end of summer. I wanted them to match a chemise--a bit of dressing up for Lucky Bastard, I think.
I wore them. He didn't really notice. But they nicely matched the chemise, and I looked very cute. (he did, however, notice when I wore the red ones with a white garter belt and stockings--and made him fasten one of the garters for me)
The second pair are pink 2 inch heels from Payless. They have a silver button on one side, and pointy toes. Rather 60's looking. They looked great last night with short-shorts and an ivory and silver lace tank top. I'm sure there are people who think I have alot of nerve walking around in a pair of short-shorts at my weight and advanced age, but, hey, I really don't care.
That outfit made me feel special--pretty. Which is odd for me.
The other pair are cute ones from Target--Isaac Mizrahi kitten heel sandals with two criss cross straps in the front adorned with blossoms. They remind me of cherry blossoms, and I had Steady Eddie buy them for me just because I liked them. And I think I needed them to go with something, but I don't remember what.
The fourth pair are from Torrid. If you don't know, Torrid shops are like Hot Topic for big-boned girls. And I *do indeed* mean big boned. Torrid carries clothing in my size, but the proportions and cuts do not fit on my average frame body. There just isn't enough hip on me to fill out the skirts, and not enough ribcage to fill out the shirts.
And apparently, not enough foot to fill out the shoes.
They're a pretty dark pink ankle tie sandal with a sisal covered wedge heel. I bought them because I heard wedge heels were "in" this summer. When I wear them with capris or shorts, I look kind of like a Vargas girl pinup that eared a few extra brush strokes. The shoes are in my size, but, strangely, they're a tad wide. Funny, there was nothing on the box to tell me they are *wide* size 7.
Then again, in Torrid, I'm a size 0. It's all about the illusion of being average sized--even in footwear.
I bought these shoes to wear with a dress I bought four years ago at the time of graduation. I was going to wear the dress when I was in Vegas, but I never had a proper time to wear it, nor a proper pair of shoes to go with it. The dress still fits, and now I have the shoes, albeit they are a bit wide.
So, as I sit on the edge of my bed, and look at these four pairs of pink shoes, and realize they are not Manolos or Jimmy Choos, or Aldos' or Nine West's, and maybe I'm nothing more than some poor girl with a bunch of cheap footwear, but even though these pink shoes might not be so special and expensive, they are kind of special to me. I never really had this many pairs of pink shoes--or this many pairs pink shoes that appear to have their own individual reasons for being in my household.
Yet when it really comes down to it, I didn't buy all those cheap pink shoes for all the reasons I said.
I bought them because they are girly. I'm often not perceived as girly, and figured some pretty footwear might help.
Maybe they do, and maybe they don't. I don't really know and it doesn't really matter.
All that matters is that they make *me* feel in a way I haven't felt in a very long time.
And now that I'm not working retail and confined to wearing more black than an undertaker, I can wear them whenever I want.
Perhaps tomorrow...for no reason at all...
posted by Tish Grier at 9:48 AM
4 Comments:
That's it. I'm going out today and buying me a pair of pink shoes! I, too, need to feel a bit more girly.
Sometimes, shoes matter.
See "Sex in the City Shoes at:
http://shamash.typepad.com/shamash/2005/06/sex_in_the_city.html
Good for you, Tish - we all need "girly" moments. I grew up in orthopedic shoes, too, and know just what you mean.
Shoes don't have to be expensive to make me feel good - I've never spent over $25 on a pair, and I usually stay under $10. To be honest, I'm just happy they're new and not hand-me-down. I was a poor kid too, and that stays with me. I can't get past the idea that people are judging me by rules I don't understand. But in the end, if it matters to someone how much what I'm wearing cost, I don't have time for them. I can't compete in that world, and don't try anymore.
Tish,
I'm so getting what you're saying. I decided about mid-April that after all these years of avoiding pink like the plague, (it was my mother's favorite color) I was going to give it a try. I can't even describe how cute, "girly" and sweet I felt in that color. My friends couldn't believe it, but I had never had a color affect me so much before. I mean, yeah, red can make me feel sexy and black is just so chic and stylish and here in the southwest white is big and can make me feel fresh. But the pink feeling was different, it was different because I hadn't realised how much I was missing that part of me. The softer more vunerable me. I love it.
Besides, you can never have too many shoes, no matter what color they are.
Right? ;)
Thanks ladies! I love hearing other women's shoe stories! Terry: another friend, also of Italian ancestry, had orthopedic shoes as a child for what she calls her "little italian immigrant peasant baby feet". I cracked up--I feel the same way about my feet. Yesterday, though, when I went to pick up my next-to-last paycheck, I had on a pair of pink shoes, and one of my co-workers remarked about my tiny Barbie feet being very cute.
It's kind of a long way from Italian baby peasant feet to cute Barbie feet. I have no idea how that happened...
It's interesting how our footwear seems to say so much to others--about our lives, our status, and even (in the eyes of some) our sexualities. Shoes are a universal: we all wear them and sometimes we can even figure out where someone else got hers--or we ask her!
Makes me wonder, too, which came first: women's fascination with shoes or men's shoe and foot fetishes? I remember back when I was a kid, watching 40's film-noir and hearing about a guy drinking champaigne from a woman's shoe. I thought it really funny that a guy would do something like that....then I grew up...and understood it quite differently.
Perhaps I'll end up writing a column about real women's relationships with their shoes. I think it'd make an interesting read.
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