Good-bye velvety black shoes with the fetching bows--you were pretty enough for theatre going, yet comfortable enough to hike blocks through mid-town Manhattan. Good riddance white lacy shoes, remember that law firm party and a not-very-flattering vintage dress? When's the baby due? a partner's wife asked. I had a miscarriage two weeks ago, I replied. See ya, high heeled brown sandals. On that trip to Belize, dressing up for dinner after those sweat-drenched hikes felt extra glamorous. Good-bye satiny grey evening shoes, you were meant for dancing. Little green princess heels, I'll miss you way more than I miss him. Get out of here, green suede mules and black clogs--I met you on the rebound. And as for you, brown shoes, did we ever really know each other?
3 comments:
Shoes do tell so much about us, don't they? After the divorce, I was embarrassed by my soccer-side-line shoes, the mules, the thick-soled, "earth-shoe" looking things. I couldn't afford to buy much,but I inherited some things from my girls that were more feminine and even bought a little, marked- down metallic sandal. But you are so right, I tossed my wedding shoes that I kept bc, well I was lied to while wearing them. And for years I kept the kids baby shoes, until it dawned on me the other day, that they will never want them and I will have no place to put them. Awww, but those tiny toes and first steps...sorry for writing a book of a comment, but your post really hit home.
I'll take those green mules.
You just need a pair of boots...
"These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do
one of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you."
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