for the want of a shoe
I've always had a dysfunctional relationship with shoes. I love them, but they hurt me. However, I've come to understand the the root of the problem. It's my feet.
My feet are small enough that I can often buy shoes in the children's department. But they're almost as wide as they are long and widen even more towards the toes, like miniature flippers. The result is that, with the exception of flip flops, it's almost impossible for me to find shoes that actually fit. Anything with a pointed toe is completely out. Straps never expand enough to wrap all the way around. And since my tiny toes are best described as vestigal, they disappear when I put on a pair of sandals.
As a child, I always entered a shoe store full of unreasonable hope and left in tears. Even now, I'm disappointed as I admire all the pretty shoes that I'll never be able to wear. I understand exactly how Cinderella's stepsisters must have felt, as each one tried and tried to force her foot into a shoe clearly made for someone else.
12 comments:
The Cinderella comparison is interesting, I never thought about that. Buying shoes with mom, when I was younger, often ended in tears. Now, I lowered my expectations, but I might be in trouble when I actually need new shoes for a specific occasion. Pointed toes are not even considered, neither painting my toe nails -- they are wider than long, it would just look awkward.
Time for custom made shoes, and maybe a custom made life?
The problem isn't really your feet. It's the store's ideas of what our feet should look like.
Aurelia Sadly, in this case, I think the store is right. The only way my feet would be a normal shape is if I were a duck.
I can't wear any cute and trendy shoes. My second toe on each foot is incredibly long. So long I have to up my shoe size a full size above the rest of my foot just to fit the second toes. And because shoes are just not made for my toe to foot proportions, if I wear flip flops or most heels or pointy shoes or strappy shoes, I end up having to use my long toe to hold them on because the rest of my foot is too short (a stretch that is way too hard on my knees and feet).
When I was a child or teenager this used to make shoe shopping very difficult and sad, but now I actually feel I've been released from an annoying feminine thing. I just have a few pairs of expensive shoes that I walk comfortably in. I've learned enough about my feet and knees that I never wobble around in pain or get blisters. And I get to weird people out by typing, writing, and picking up things with my alien toes, something you'd think I'd have grown out of by now.
That doesn't really help you any, but I bet your feet are cuter than my monstrosities. But I think of my weird feet as an excuse to buy any shoe that fits well, regardless of the cost.
SaraI'm amazed that you can type and write with your toes. If you ever get the urge to weird us all out, put up a video of your toes doing their tricks.
Sara, typing? Wow. I can pick things up but not type.
Oh, wait, I should be talking to Niobe.
I spent a long time in Birkenstocks in college. Then they got trendy, so I stopped (I liked wearing them when they meant you were a hippie throwback.) But I did overhear this exchange between two hipper-than-me Birki shoppers late in my Birki-wearing career:
"They're so comfortable! But they make your toes spread out."
Hunh? It seems to me that the conclusion should be that most shoes make your toes squish together. Imagine how much discomfort that woman had learned to ignore in her shoes!
i always wanted tiny feet...i think i thought of feet as ugly, and so the smaller they were, the less offensive they'd be. i eventually came to appreciate feet, but never got over my preference for dainty ones, which i do not have. i am re-thinking. because i too love shoes, and i take for granted that they won't be overly hard to buy. vestigial toes sound fascinating. i am tempted to ask for pictures.
the comments here are fascinating too.
I would so much rather be barefoot all the time that I find shoe shopping a big drag. Even when I have a good outfit that's begging for great shoes.
Constance has tiny feet, too. Mine are ginormous. We both have trouble finding the right fit - I love your Cinderella analogy.
Boy, do we know how you feel.
I can relate. I now wear a 10 wide. Not many stores carry that size. At a particular uppity store, I asked if they had a certain shoe in my size. She actually made a terrible face, snickered, and said they did not carry ANY shoes in that size. Haven't gone back there since.
I am so laughing as I read Sara's comment. I would love to see her type with her toes! It is always a contrast to see a woman's foot next to a man's foot. It is at least a 2 to 1 differental. There must be some shoe stores (probably online) that carry shoes for special feet.
I wear a size 13 and I have bunions. I feel your pain.
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