Shoe Bid-ness

I'm known for my shoes.

When I walk into work people look at me then immediately to my feet to see what I'm wearing. Some people look and think they can determine my mood based on my footwear. Other's have their favourites and can't wait for me to show up in them again. There's many a person who love my red Miz Moo's. I bought them at a smokin' good clearance price and wore them for the first time on a flight from Comox to Regina - with a layover in Edmonton. As I'm strolling the Edmonton airport, killing time before my connection, a woman stopped dead in her tracks and pointed to my feet. "Oh"! she gasped. "Are those Miz Moo's?" she said with a bit of awe. Yes." I replied. "They're gorgeous!" 

I also used to have a pair of orange patent leather heels. (Teachable moment: Never. Ever. Release a pair of your shoes unless they are literally falling apart at every seam and are irreparable. I have purgers regret over these ones). I wore them at my job for "The Corporation" as it was called. A huge building full of suits and the Executive Assistants who managed them. One of the vice presidents in "The Corporation" hated my orange shoes. His opinion wasn't worth spit. About anything. So the bonus of wearing my orange pumps to piss him off. One day I was in the elevator when he stepped in. "You're wearing those ugly shoes again" he sneered. I sneered back. At the next floor, in stepped another VP. He was young. Good looking. Trendy. An up and comer. He was sporting an orange tie. He smiled at me and said "Nice shoes!" I smiled back and said "Nice tie!" Little 'v' vice president was momentarily shut down. 

My love for shoes, I think, goes back to the early development stages of my existence. My grandparents, who raised me, managed/owned a shoe store when I was a toddler. Daycare was non-existent in those days. Granny told me about how I would try shoes on people on the days she brought me to work. When I was growing up, shoes were serious business. They were purchased for their good fit and durability. We always shopped at Copp's Shoe Store or Searles. Your feet were always measured before shoe choices were brought out. Back in my day, however, you were outfitted with one - maybe two - dressy shoes (one for winter, one for summer) and a pair of sneakers. That was about it. 

I later discovered that shoes could elevate this 5'3" girl's stature. Which came in really handy because pants were never sold to accommodate short people. Back in the seventies you were cool if you sported the widest bell bottom atop the tallest platform shoe. Fast forward...many, uh...many, many years later, a 6' co-worker, who had never seen me when I wasn't wearing 3" heels happened to be standing next to me at a summer party. I was wearing flip-flops. He looked down at me and said "I didn't know you were so short" Yup. 

The biggest bonus is you don't have to be particular shape or size to be able to pull off great shoes. No matter what size I was (I've been everything from a 4 to a 16) shoe's could always be impressive or classic or beautiful no matter how many pounds found their way on to my frame. 

Shoes make a statement. Walk with purpose in a heel and the world watches. 

You might say...parts of my identity are wrapped up my footwear. 

So imagine my delight when I discovered that the boy - the beau - my new man - had an affinity for shoes as well. Not just mine - but his own. It was hard to tell at first. First couple dates he wore hiking boots. His daily shoe of choice was a well-worn pair of Merrell's. When we went out to a fancy night, he wore a classic pair of Florsheims. Good solid shoe choices. He likes quality. 

It wasn't until our trip to the States, when I made him pull over at a DSW to hunt for shoes. I entered the store with my game face on. Filter out all distractions and eye each shoe for that wow factor while simultaneously discarding shapes, styles, colours, and embellishments that don't suit me. At one point, I did ask the sales girl if she had seen a guy in a ball cap. Nope. He hadn't been seen. Likely found a chair somewhere to while away the hours. I'd find him eventually. I piled the boxes of possibilities into my arms then sat down to try them on, test them out, narrow them down. I had discarded all but one shoe when the ball cap wandered over to me. He had been in the clearance section. There's a clearance section??!! How had I not seen that. He said, when I was done, there were some shoes he wanted to show me. Over there. And pointed to the opposite corner of the store. I told him I would meet him there. I picked up the one box of shoes that were coming home with me and took the long way to the opposite corner of the room - checking out the clearance section while I was at it. Picking out one more box of shoes, I made my way to where he was camped out. Boxes of shoes littered the floor. Look at these cool Florsheims - trendy buckled shoes. And these blue Vans. And these sleek black slip on's. And these Rockport boots. The ball cap and I walk up to the till and the sales clerks stared at the piles of boxes. What is wrong with this picture, they asked. 

Although I was thrilled with his shoe choices - they were awesome - I felt somehow deflated. I felt like I had let myself and my shoe followers - woman-kind even - down. 

This was unexpected. 

Hmmm....

In the back of my mind I knew I had to catch up. No - I had to surpass. Win! 

So, when we planned a trip to Victoria, I knew this was my chance to surge ahead. At the very least Even. The. Score.

Our first stop was DSW. The scene of the first crime. I felt at this point, that he had maxed himself out. He didn't need anymore shoes. It would be superfluous. So I walked into the store with confidence. And alas, I stepped to the till with two more boxes of shoes. On clearance. I paid for my purchases and was about to take my boxes when the ball cap walked up behind me. 

"I want you to see some shoes." 

Really? I rolled my eyes at the sales girls then we walked to the far corners of the store.  He stepped into a casual pair of Steve Madden's. Then a two-toned butterscotch pair of dress shoes. "You have feet that look good in just about anything" I said. What can you say - both pairs looked amazing. Cool. Both on clearance. He walked to the till and paid. For a mere 4 minutes I had evened the score and then he surged ahead. 6  pairs to 4. Sigh! 

The last day in Victoria I visited my ace in the hole. She She Shoes. It's all in the name. Not He He Shoes. She She. All women's shoes. FANTASTIC women's shoes. All 50% off. I  put him through the bored-boyfriend-sitting-in-the-corner routine before I walked away with a new pair of Miz Moo's. Score was not evened, but I was inching forward. 

Clearly I can't take him shoe shopping anymore. 

He's stealing my thunder.