There are two types of women in the world, those who shoe and those who don’t. Of course every woman owns some type of shoe; it is rare to see a woman roaming barefoot in modern day society. Here, I refer to ‘shoe’ as a verb defined as an unstoppable urge which must be acted upon immediately to buy, preserve and cherish shoes. Those who don’t shoe should just stop reading now.
If you are not sure if you shoe or not ask yourself how many shoes do you have in your closet? If your number is less than five and you are not actively dividing your inventory into categories such as heels, boots, flats, sandals and athletic but instead are thinking of piles such as black, brown, blue and house slipper…you do not shoe.
However if your still debating whether you should start with designers and now are imagining a whole organization system for your shoe closet…you shoe! You shoe so good when asked your shoe size you respond with “doesn’t matter, I will get my feet in there!” You shoe so good, you have photos of every pair stored in a fire proof box at a local bank for insurance maters. Right now just the thought of shoes makes your arches long for the feel of a six inch Italian made stiletto.
Oh baby, you shoe good!
I like to think that I shoe pretty well myself all things considered. Growing up with brothers and a field full of cattle, I struggled living more than 30 miles from a store let alone a Neiman Marcus shoe department. See I am a farm girl, a transplant from land of malls and weekend sales. A hard day at work or a horrific final in college sent me straight to my comfort zone, shoe stores.
After college, I moved to the city and got TWO jobs—one where I could use my degree and one to buy shoes. I started out shopping at re-sale warehouses and the internet--the online dating version of shoe shopping through name brand websites and eBay. These places satisfied my needs, but it was always so sad to see that telltale sign of warehouse sale, the re-sale black mark across the bottom. You know the one, when you casually cross your legs and the whole world knows those shoes came without a box. The price is almost always a steal and easies the pain of not having the shoe buying experience that would generally come along with a designer label.
I can never walk away from a good deal on shoes or an average deal…let’s be honest you have to drag me away kicking and screaming from any shoes even full price. I can justify a sale no matter how gimmicky or small. Often my voice of reason is muffled by shrieks of delight at seeing Christian Louboutain heels on the clearance rack. The angelic choir belts from the Heavens while I add up all the good deeds I did to earn…no wait…deserve these shoes. In my head I picture myself strutting past all those flip-flop wearing, Croc sporting fools as they part like the Sea and all eyes are glued to the fine craftsmanship strapped to MY ankles. The next thing I know plastic is flying at the cashier, and I have to fight the urge to scream “Yes, I shoe, I shoe good!”
I am going over in my head how to cut corners to afford the shoes practically baby seated in the back of my car. Plan One- stop eating. Plan Two- pick up some extra shifts at the second job you already have to pay for your shoe addiction. Plan Three- no more shoes shopping until these are paid off. Those plans will remain in place until I retrieve my Harper’s Bazaar from the mailbox. As I place my new shoes in a special glass protective case I notice the cover headline raving about a new chunky ankle boot by Gucci. Suddenly, Fergie’s ‘Clumsy’ comes on the radio of my mind. “The girl can’t help, she just help it. She’s back in love!” And I am.
I shoe, I shoe real good.