is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shoe Nuff.
Today, walking to the office from the subway, I saw a woman wearing fleece-lined crocs. And yes, her heels were all never-lotioned cracky and sad. So I am a herald from Herald Square, bringing you unfond tidings, of a winter spent seeing just as many crocs as you'd wish you hadn't seen all summer. Fleece-lined! And it was that bad always-already pilled fleece of an old Old Navy zip-neck pullover. Someone needs to stage an intervention (and did you see that intervention episode of How I Met Your Mother?).
But I have better shoe news than that. I am happy to report that I am winning the battle with the too-tight on my high-arched feet Fluevog boots, the ones-I-wons on eBay. It is of course good and useful to get your tight shoes professionally stretched. But I am oh-so-thankful to the manager working at Fluevog in San Francisco (who knows me on sight and always talks to me as if I were a friend. A friend who supports his store by buying too many overpriced pairs of shoes. In the old days, before Project Live Within Means. In fact he was perplexed when I was last in the store helping Gus buy shoes, and I didn't even try anything on. So maybe we're breaking up, my friend and I. But I digress, I do.) who, when I tried on my now-favorite pair of heels (the Fluevog Stardust in turquoise with yellow and green) and declared that they were just a bit too tight across the toe-hole, said: "oh, just put some rubbing alcohol on the inside of the shoe and wear it around the house for awhile and they'll be perfect. Or you can pay me to stretch them." That man is an angel. Because he taught me how to custom stretch my shoes. You know how sometimes when you pay someone to stretch your shoes they don't stretch them in precisely the right spot? Never again.
I do, however, own a pair of sandal-shoes that I have not been able to self-stretch, that I have also paid to get professionally stretched, and that still become uncomfortable after about three hours of wear due to an unforgiving strip of leather across the lower foot. It's right where the arch of my foot begins. And the darned thing won't stretch. So I'm either going to have to sell the shoes (sadness. i bought them last year in san francisco on sale at gimme shoes and they are perfect navy blue spanish leather low-heeled problem-solving shoes with a unique/cool metal closure--click here and click on new collection and then scroll in a bit to see how awesome this line of shoes is... at first they look sad, like Campers or something, but then they keep getting cuter and cuter) or make some sort of strategic cut in the leather to allow my foot to wear what is otherwise destined to be an extremely cute and comfortable pair of shoes.
Is it sad how much time I can spend thinking about and writing about and strategizing about shoes? Is this why my old colleague said I was off to have Sex in the City when I was really off to have a job as Professor of Philosophy? Well, who cares. It's not like I've wasted my life on trifles. Shoes are no trifling matter! Ha.
In totally other news, this is a great little article. It gave me some happy-tears.
12:06 p.m. - October 22, 2008
Anna - 2008-10-22 17:29:55
I don't really give a shit about shoes (flip-flops all summer, Uggs all winter) but I love your diary after reading just two entries, so I'm adding you. Best wishes x
-------------------------------
Anne - 2008-10-23 01:47:44
Thanks for the last link. Really lifted my spirits. G.
-------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
