Because ongoing information regarding my footwear is intriguing no matter who you are, I am compelled to update you on my new shoes.
The ones that only recently replaced Leftie and Stompie.
Ah. Leftie and Stompie. Now those were good shoes: up-and-coming shoes, forthright shoes, the kind of shoes that would trot you down a city street just as fast as you cared to go. Those shoes not only knew when to keep their mouths shut but had excellent credit scores and a good head for baseball stats.
Those shoes once saved a drowning child.
But the new ones? They’ve been bitterly disappointing.
The Traitors, as I’ve come to think of them, were comfy in the store. Lovely suede loafers. Best of all, they were an incredible 70% off the retail price.
Seventy percent off!
Who amongst us can resist a pair of $14 shoes?
I put them on, trod the carpeted aisles of the DSW. I pretended to run for the bus, held up an arm and yelled “Wait! Wait!” I pretended to sidestep a wad of gum on the street. I went one way, imagined I had forgotten something and quickly went the other way.
I did a quick Charleston.
So far, so good.
But really, with shoes? How can you know?
You can’t; and The Traitors revealed themselves to be untrustworthy, blister-causing turncoats on their first wearing.
Oh, sure, they were my friends in the store, weren’t they? “Buy me! I go with everything! I’m 70% off!”
Foolish mortal.
They bit me, those shoes, again and again. Within blocks of my house, I was in trouble. By the time I had reached the bus stop, my heels were in tears.
Why had I forsaken them?
The blisters formed. The left one tore open. Unflattering opinions were shouted, blame firmly placed on my skinflint shoulders. My feet declared me to be a menace to working soles everywhere and plans were drawn up by the left one to leave the lower legs and strike out on their own.
And so I’ve done what any normal person would do. I’ve dug Leftie and Stompie out of the garbage can (where they sat, patiently, in the box of the new ones).
They’ve been reinstated.
The Traitors have been contained in their original box and isolated, left to think about what they’ve done.
They’ll be going back to the store from whence they came.
And that brings us up-to-date regarding my footwear. Tune in again tomorrow when I relate a story about a jacket button that needs replacing and my hunt for the proper color of thread.
*sigh*
I got a million of ‘em.
The ones that only recently replaced Leftie and Stompie.
Ah. Leftie and Stompie. Now those were good shoes: up-and-coming shoes, forthright shoes, the kind of shoes that would trot you down a city street just as fast as you cared to go. Those shoes not only knew when to keep their mouths shut but had excellent credit scores and a good head for baseball stats.
Those shoes once saved a drowning child.
But the new ones? They’ve been bitterly disappointing.
The Traitors, as I’ve come to think of them, were comfy in the store. Lovely suede loafers. Best of all, they were an incredible 70% off the retail price.
Seventy percent off!
Who amongst us can resist a pair of $14 shoes?
I put them on, trod the carpeted aisles of the DSW. I pretended to run for the bus, held up an arm and yelled “Wait! Wait!” I pretended to sidestep a wad of gum on the street. I went one way, imagined I had forgotten something and quickly went the other way.
I did a quick Charleston.
So far, so good.
But really, with shoes? How can you know?
You can’t; and The Traitors revealed themselves to be untrustworthy, blister-causing turncoats on their first wearing.
Oh, sure, they were my friends in the store, weren’t they? “Buy me! I go with everything! I’m 70% off!”
Foolish mortal.
They bit me, those shoes, again and again. Within blocks of my house, I was in trouble. By the time I had reached the bus stop, my heels were in tears.
Why had I forsaken them?
The blisters formed. The left one tore open. Unflattering opinions were shouted, blame firmly placed on my skinflint shoulders. My feet declared me to be a menace to working soles everywhere and plans were drawn up by the left one to leave the lower legs and strike out on their own.
And so I’ve done what any normal person would do. I’ve dug Leftie and Stompie out of the garbage can (where they sat, patiently, in the box of the new ones).
They’ve been reinstated.
The Traitors have been contained in their original box and isolated, left to think about what they’ve done.
They’ll be going back to the store from whence they came.
And that brings us up-to-date regarding my footwear. Tune in again tomorrow when I relate a story about a jacket button that needs replacing and my hunt for the proper color of thread.
*sigh*
I got a million of ‘em.
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29 comments:
Sigh. New shoes at an incredible price... I have been suckered in as well. One time I got an impossibly cute pair of kitten heels for work. By third period, blood was seeping through the back of the shoe from my blistered heel. What to do but take it off and craft myself a new set of slippers for the day with posterboard and a stapler.
I LOVE that you have a million of them:):) Hug B
Shelly, ah, the makeshift shoe. :-)
Buttons, seriously, though, I AM thinking of writing something on my "mend" pile. :-)
Hari OM
I would sympathise...but the $200 dollar, sturdy-as-you-go items I purchased to deal with Scottish weathers? They too gave the rub, the nip, tuck and amputation.
I beat them into submission. Four months on, they have become Leftie and Stompie. YAM xx
I hope those shoes feel guilty about the pain they've caused.
Blisters are the worst. I hope your feet find their happy place this weekend. :)
What to do? Send the evil beauties back to their lair, or swab your feet in moleskin and beat them into submission like Yamini.
New shoes are a two act tragedy, aren't they.
I've got a band-aid on the blister and am working up a new layer of skin. Once that's done, I'm pulling on a damp pair of socks and running around in them until the buggers stretch.
They think they're going back to the store?! Think again, my pretties!!
When Mom bought me new shoes (okay, yes, that was years ago) Dad would take a hammer to the inside of the heel edges. The idea was that it would soften the leather and they wouldn't rub.....I wish I could say it worked.
The nature of women...new shoes, blisters..painful yet happy.
I bought 3 pairs of new shoes on last X'mas sales, and tried them and decided to go back to my old shoes.
I love the imagery of your in-store manoeuvres, winding up with a quick Charleston. It's a wonder you didn't get another 10% off when the staff saw that.
But, it still wouldn't help the problem with the shoes, now, would it? Ungrateful things, after you giving them a nice home.
Did you know you can buy stretching spray? Or you can do like I do and just rub alcohol over the parts you want to loosen up. (Not the alcohol you drink, the other kind.) Put it on the inside if the finish would be affected by liquid, as in the case of your suede shoes.
Infinitely many tales, and only limited time and space. Well, whatever your selection, we are going to get a kick out of them, I know. Not from the shoes.
The only thing worse than deciding if the shoes I am about to buy for myself will be comfortable, was deciding if shoes for my (then) small children were the right ones to purchase. I feel your pain!
If you had only listened a little harder, Pearl, you would have heard the little s.o.b.s whispering to your heels, telling them all the evil things they were going to do. Sadistic little...anyway. I'm glad Leftie and Stompie are back in the game.
Exactly. Who among us can resist the siren call of $14 shoes? You were fooled, Pearl. Lied to.
Shoes, particularly young shoes, are like cats strangers to the truth.
Shoes are a mystery whose suitability (for my feet) cannot be predicted.
I liked this post a lot. Thrill of victory strives with de agony of...no, I won't say it.
Good one, Geo. :D
I had a pair of shoes who only wanted to escape the store and then turned on me once freed. First wearing I gave them the benefit of the doubt and thought they just needed more training...also 2nd, 3rd, 4th...I believe in giving every benefit and chance to make good.
This is why my father had always said that my middle name is Gullible.
I would be stabbed here and there, remove one shoe to search for the cause, suspecting an intruder. Then it showed with the other shoe, so thus removed it and sought a culprit. Both empty and running my hand along the area produced nothing. But once back on my feet, the pinches, stabs, and rubs began again. All attempts to find a solution failed. So the shoes were relegated to my shoe shelf system. Every once in a while I see them and ponder trying to wear them again, but memories hold me back. So they look new and comfy on the shelf and I could almost swear they seem to be gaining weight!!!
It takes a loyal shoe to come out of the garbage and still not cause a blister.
The problem is the carpeting in the shoe store. You need to practise those charleston and sidestep moves on the pavement. All shoe stores should have a section of flooring that mimics footpaths, muddy tracks and pebbly paths.
I've worked in a shoe factory and can say with a degree of certainty that the probable cause is the "counter"; the stiffened piece that is inserted between the outer leather and inner lining to hold the shape of the shoe at the heel. If the counter is the wrong size or positioned wrongly, the shoe will give trouble. another problem is the shaping of the shoe while on the last. Many fashion pumps are styled so the heels, when new, are pointy and narrow instead of rounded, they must be worn several times before the leather softens and shapes itself to your foot. This can be painful and I can recommend wearing a thick layer of wide bandaids at the friction point until the shoe stretches. Before any blister forms of course.
Sounds like it's time for flip flops to become acceptable office attire. May be slightly rough on the dogs in the winter but then, nothing is perfect.
Noooooo! I hate to hear of "good" shoes gone bad! Ouch!!!! Really, I have very strong feelings about this. Can you tell?
I've found I can never go wrong with Clarke's. I even bought a beautiful pair of black suede heels because the were comfortable -- not because I have any place to wear them, but you know... it could happen. You can make even footwear funny.
When my kids were little, they had an idea about trying on and testing shoes in the shoe store: they jumped in them, to see how high they could jump.
Clearly you eliminated this step. It might even help to bring a trampoline to the store. If they give you odd looks, tell them I said so.
If you've got a million of 'em, I want to hear 'em all. You're the most consistently funny woman on the 'net. Every piece is a gem.
(I know that sounds like I'm buttering you up, but it's the stone cold truth.)
Oh, how I hate blisters on my heels. Those darn shoes cannot be trusted.
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