Parting is such sweet sorrow...

This is where my cute shoes live now...and probably not for long. They will soon be getting new homes and that is some consolation to me...some...


About a year ago I was reminded, once again, that no longer am I a "chick". No – I am more in the "hen" stage of life, and on some days, the stew pot can be seen in the distance.
I was suffering noticeable pain in my right foot. I couldn’t remember any misstep, or injury, or unfortunate happenings – why did it hurt? And worse still, why wouldn’t it quit hurting?



The answer? I had become injured BY WEARING CUTE SHOES!! Perish the thought!! I had just finally accumulated a wardrobe of stylish little shoes of different colors, styles, and no support whatsoever – a nice variety that made me feel so trendy and stylish! But my feet were crying "Foul!" – Well, a little more like whining all the time and crying now and then... When I began to limp, I decided that fashion would have to go. I bought 2 pairs of good athletic shoes and wore them faithfully all last summer. Faithfully, I tell you! Unless I was going out somewhere – then I would don the cutsie ones for a couple of hours...just a couple, well –a few hours...and don’t forget the summer flip flops...Au naturel feet - isn’t that healthy?



Oddly enough, my feet just never got all the way better with this plan. Finally, after 10 months of trying to avoid going to the doctor by fixing it myself, I had to admit defeat (no pun intended) and made an appointment. The doctor listened to my description (as usual, I offered my own diagnosis - I do leave treatment options to him), took one look at my sporty Skecher pseudo-athletic shoes, and said, "You’ve GOT to get better shoes!" I tried to justify my wardrobe choice for the day, explaining that at home I was faithfully wearing better shoes, but he insisted that I MUST get better shoes – for ALL the time! He did order an x-ray and it revealed a heel spur which may be causing the pain, as well as my diagnosis of plantar fasciitis, as the worst discomfort is in the arch of my right foot.

So...all the cutsie shoes were packed into a box (appropriately a Zappos one) and readied to go to new homes. I have since spent a fair bit of time, and an even larger sum of money finding GOOD SHOES. I am pleased to say that, as well as being GOOD, they are GOOD-LOOKING! Whew! But there are very few of them...I’ll adjust...I'll have to.

The extent of my new shoe wardrobe...

Instead of being faithful at wearing the needed supportive shoes, I am being RELIGIOUS about it – and I must say that I am finally seeing relief...not perfect yet, but so much better. Some bright and cheery wool socks have made the transition easier, by adding some fun. It keeps me from feeling too much like an old hen with sensible shoes.

I think that I was so attached to my shoes because, unlike the rest of my body, my feet could easily be dressed to look good...They could look young, even if the rest of me seemed a little bumpy, squishy, lumpy and undefined...Oh well, one must deal with reality sometime...All that’s left to be slim and trim are the wrists and ankles – but they do look pretty darn good!

I think I’ll go shopping for bracelets...