The Two Cents Tuesday Challenge has more than a passing interest in what we protect our appendages with. From cavemen to astronauts, we put them on last and (usually) take them off first – Shoes – love them or leave them, most people (and even some pets) wear them.
Ever I was old enough to know the word “shoe”, I have been in love with footwear. It always had to be the right footwear for the occasion, for example, if forced to don the Sunday dress at age two, then nothing would do but to have white socks and black patent strappy shoes, or there would be trouble.
Not long after that I got my very first pair of shiny welly boots and the love affair began in earnest. I’ve had regular high boots, short boots, ankle boots, thigh high boots, flat, platform, stilletto, wedge. Suede, leather plastic, in any shade you can mention. Boots for horse-riding (and yard-boots), for motorbikes, (road and off-road), boots for walking, hiking and some that were never made for walking at all (those purple/lilac beauties in the picture, for example). Doc Martens, combats, baseball, fencing boots have all featured in my collection,
Imagine my delight when beach (Ugg) boots were invented? Not to say that I neglected the standard shoe either. If the ratio of my footwear to my income was measured, Imelda Marcos would rank as an incompetent, hopeless tyro in the annals of shoe ownership.
My bemused dad would feign as much interest as he could in this strange female obsession, often being met with a withering glare when he innocently asked whether the latest acquisitions were comfortable. In my micro-mini and thigh-boots days, he was often heard to ask anxiously “can you run in those?”. This was not a misplaced question, because, when I worked in the music business, I often stashed the cash takings for shows in my boots rather than carry a briefcase. This led to a rather farcical occasion while passing through Heathrow when the metal strips from a couple of thousand dollars set off the security scanners.
Over the years I have developed an understanding with the local shoe repair man – he will re-heel, re-sole, dye, stitch and glue the favourites until there is virtually nothing left of the originals, and will commiserate sincerely when it’s time to send them to the great shoebox in the sky. I’ve lost others through death by dog –but the perpetrator is so sweet, I’ve forgiven her.
There are some pairs, long gone, but not forgotten, that will always hold a special place in my heart, the red suede high-heeled sneakers, the purple flower converse high tops, the 5” stiletto pirate boots, and most of all, those shiny black patent strappy Sunday shoes that started it all.
And the theme song for today just has to be:
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