Shoes: An Introduction

A year or so ago, I was attempting to organize the shoes in my closet (believe it or not, it is filled with more than just black dresses) and, not for the first time, I realized that I wear a very small percentage of the footwear I own. I just don't have many opportunities to swank around in high heels and, alas, as I age, I seem to be veering towards comfort when it comes to situations where no one will even see my feet.

At the same time, I was bemoaning my inability to write regularly and thinking I needed a random project to motivate me. I couldn't even get myself to post about music anymore.

But I do have this blog and a history of documenting wearable items. Chocolate, meet peanut butter.

Of course, I didn't do anything right away. I was busy, I didn't have a decent camera, my feet weren't pretty right now, maybe I'd start in September, after school started and I got a pedicure. September came and went and I dithered long enough to read about why I can never get a pedicure ever again, and still no shoe blogging. We got a good camera and then I retired my flip phone and joined the 21st century, but I failed to take nary a photo of my footwear. But the idea nagged at me, whenever I bought a new pair of shoes it would remind me of its existence and make me feel guilty about what a slacker I am. If I couldn't even do this, is it any wonder that my current novel languishes in its unfinished state?

Which brings me to today. A Saturday like any other, except for some reason, I decided today was the day to start this thing and I would even try writing on the phone (which is weird and I feel it alters my voice, as if the different medium changes the way my brain constructs thoughts and sentences).

Here is how it will work: I will post pictures of shoes along with random pieces of information which may or may not be related to the footwear in question. I have no idea how long this will take. Yes, much like my black dress project, it will hopefully demonstrate how materialism can be transformed into something more by the emotional connection we feel for our possessions and the sympathetic magic that imbues them over time. Or maybe it will just be the unself-aware prattle of a privileged individual who wants to justify her frivolous spending habits. At the very least, I am following through on my assertion that I am not a hoarder, I am saving this for an art project.


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