When she has to learn to get rid of some of her damn shoes.
This sounds like a cliché, I know. You could interpret this as some awkward admission that I have a shoe-shopping problem.
This is not true.
What I have is a problem with getting rid of shoes. I buy them and wear them and then never, ever, ever get rid of them. The live in my closet, they get packed up and shifted for moves, and slowly but surely a few shoes turn into a lot of shoes.
Now this can be a problem for some ladies. You finally find the perfect pair of pumps, or the most practical set of flats. You hang onto them forever and get them fixed when you wear them out. And for guys? You’ll wear the same shoes until you can no longer deny the holes, and then grab a replacement pair when the others hit the trash can. (Sexist generalizations? Who? Me?!) Not me. I keep ridiculous shoes, hideous shoes, impractical shoes, and useless shoes. Even I don’t know why.
Don’t believe me? Let’s start in chronological order for a few choice items still living in my closet, shall we?
Exhibit A: The flip flops purchased in sophomore year of high school. And these are not the only pairs of black Tevas I own. They’re just the oldest ones. The ones I’ve had forever. The ones I no longer wear because I have newer ones. But these seem fairly practical to keep around the closet, right? Let’s move on…
Exhibit B: THE BOOTS. These glorious creations, which even have attachable front covers with spikes and zippers so stiff you have to douse them in WD-40 just to make them move an inch, were purchased my junior year of high school. I’d just discovered eBay auctions, and a whole new world of gothic attire was suddenly available to me. I have not worn them in five years…and that time was for Halloween. But still, they continue to take up (an absurd amount of) space in my closet.
But don’t worry, My high school years weren’t all about highbrow fashion:
Exhibit C: The running shoes I bought at the start of my senior year of high school. It was beautiful late summer. I was getting in shape to for impending college* departure. And these shoes, a size and a half too large and in the men’s section, captured my heart. And despite having no tread on the bottom anymore, and the arch support of flattened cardboard, they have remained in my closet.
*slow-motion jogging to the 7-11 up the street for mini donuts and slurpees.
But it doesn’t stop there…
Exhibit D: The pride and joy of any woman’s classy, everyday footwear collection: The light-up Star Wars sandal. These I acquired my sophomore year of college, and wore through summer suns and New England snowstorms. What girl could resist velcro sandals with flashing lights? Not this one, that’s for sure.
And then I grew older…
Exhibit E: My college graduation heels. Now, keep in mind that I graduated in 2007. So maybe these were some sort of glorious, high-investment shoe? Oh nay nay. These beauties right here were a Payless purchase, The first day I wore them, they split my heels and blistered my toes. They’re a size too big, and viciously uncomfortable. And I have yet to get rid of them.
Surely we’re done, right?
Exhibit F: The Ruby Slippers. Bought in 2009 to be practical, fun work shoes. And so they have been. They have been repaired twice….and yet….
I have destroyed them. Shoe repair people shake their heads at me, and tell me to invest in new heels. I don’t wear these anymore, as they’re capable of destroying carpets and clawing hardwoods to shreds…
…But I just can’t bring myself to get rid of them.