Thursday, January 10, 2013

If the Shoe Fits

...which, it doesn't.

When I was around 13 / 14 years old, I remember insisting that I needed size 8 shoes. One reason was because it made me feel like an adult to wear such a mature and legitimate size, and of course, when I was young all I wanted was to be a mature and legitimate adult and to be taken very seriously. These days all I want is to explain to people that I am not really an adult at all, but for them to consider taking me seriously anyway, even though I should probably not be taken seriously. The other reason I wanted size 8s was because my mom would only buy me new shoes if my feet had grown. So, I convinced myself, and the world, that I was a size 8. And then for the next 5 years I forgot that it was all a careful ruse, and consistently bought shoes that were too big for me.

I remember when I was with my grandmother in Florida trying on fancy strappy, golden shoes, she said: "Are you sure those shoes fit you? They look a little big...maybe we shouldn't buy them", and I said "They definitely fit me, I love these golden jewels and shiny adult heels, maybe you are just losing your eyesight".

Fast forward to college, and I was very used to just hobbling around, wondering why my shoes kept shooting off my feet and down the sidewalk in front of me, and still foolishly thinking that wearing heels was a reasonable expectation for my life.

Speaking of high heels and going to college in NYC, I would buy heels and then never be able to wear them- because there is never such a thing as "not needing to walk anywhere" in New York. (One time in college I walked home from a restaurant down the New York City sidewalks with just my socks on, holding my shoes because I could literally not take one step further in those high heeled booties.) (yes, I could have looked homeless, but I wasn't walking alone. Imagine me barefoot and laughing hysterically with a friend. Like a pretend free-spirit).

So, during my delusional college high-heel shopping-experiences, I was surprised to find that the size I actually fit into most consistently was a size 6.5. It turns out I have very small feet, like Cinderella.

And then it all came rushing back to me. Ohhhh, I remember why I convinced myself I was an 8! I wanted new shoes and also it made me feel more mature! Dumb Caroline!

So to try and remedy the problem, I started buying shoes that were way too small for me, because apparently high-heel sizes are not the same as normal sizes. And also my feet are VERY WIDE.

Then I just had a closet full of shoes that were way too big and way too small, and I was so confused as to why everything hurt.

But it was OK for a while, because I just wore clogs every day and nobody cared:

college

backstage of a show (with salmonella)

I bought Croc flats the summer I was in Ireland.
They eventually hurt a lot too.

So now that I finally sort of understand my dilemma, I still don't have any shoes, mostly because shoes are expensive. And even still, most of them are too narrow for me feet, so I am back to buying 8s and 8.5s to accomodate their generous width. Even the sneaker salesmen are too dumb to accurately fit shoes onto my feet.

So yea, it's tough, every day is a struggle, thank you for asking!

But, thank god for sandals, and flat boots, and little bensimon sneakers, and combat boots, and clog boots. 

And rainboots. Rainboots are probably the most comfortable shoes I own.

1 comment:

say whatever you want