I’m about to go to a very important conference this weekend and my biggest concern is my big ugly black shoes.
And, Ashley, no matter how many times you tell me my shoes are the “it thing” in Europe, I’m not going to believe you because decades of social grooming tells me shoes are everything.
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bm6hUcChegh/?taken-by=simplymombailey
I am always wearing the same pair of ugly black shoes because my feet hurt.
I have bunions, and they cause me a great deal of pain on the day-to-day, but that pain is minimized when I wear a shoe that fits.
I do have a collection of size 13 women shoes I collected over a decade of scouring every boutique shoe store I ever find. If only you knew the time and energy that went into my shoe collection. But they don’t fit anymore. They are just too narrow.
My feet have gone from being just big to extra wide and I now wear a men’s extra EXTRA wide, otherwise known as a size 11 6E. I am grateful my local boutique got me into these shoes, but with only two choices in what actually fit, it wasn’t like visiting a candy store.
As women, the dream of beautiful footwear is engrained in our culture. Just the other day, another woman confided in me that she likes shoe shopping because they always fit. I smiled and laughed as you should, but while this statement is true for most women, it’s never been true for me. I would rather go jean shopping, or dress pant shopping or even bra shopping.
Shoes are seen as a woman’s place of refuge in today’s society. The perception is that shoes will always be there and always fit. At least, that’s what we’re told. But it’s far from my reality. I imagine there are others just like me.
And when we don’t fit into that pretty little box like we’ve been told we will, we feel like crap. There’s no sugar coating that, and some strong women will rise above and not feel that sense of disappointment in their body, but that’s easier said than done when its almost impossible to take part in activities you lack adequate footwear for.
I can always find clothing to fit my body and if it doesn’t, then I’ll take out the hem and put it back in.
But the shoes. You can’t tailor shoes.
You can’t even make your own shoes.
Sure, I can wear men’s shoes. But have you ever worn a men’s shoe? I’m not sure why they insist men where big clunky, heavy shoes. Maybe if we weigh down men’s shoes it’ll balance out the disadvantages of wearing heels? Men’s shoes are also always boring. Women get 7 colours of rubber boots. Men get one.
Shoes I must buy and that forces unbelievable limitations in what I can have and what I can’t have. It makes me a have not.
So, when I shoe up to a local conference, or a national conference, with my big ugly shoes because of my big ugly bunions, I know the world is thinking.
It’s Always Been This Way.
My feet grew to a size 12 when I was 12 or 13 years old.
Every timee I walk past a shoe store, I get a pang in my heart. I yearn to have shoes that look great, but that’s not going to happen.
I would die for a pair of pink runners that fit. Oh, that’s been my dream for years, and as gay culture takes hold of our consumerism, I keep wishing mens shoe manufacturers will break into more fun colours.
It hasn’t happened yet.
Maybe one day.
This is Me.
I won’t have nice shoes to match the nice dress.
I would squeeze my feet into heels, but it’s not worth the pain for the next week. One bad day of bad footwear typically equals a week of bedrest.
As you look me up and down, don’t forget you don’t know my story, and don’t discredit me because my shoes don’t match my outfit. Oh, how I wish I could just conform to male fashion standards instead. Please, dear shoe brands, I know you’ve brushed me off because I won’t fit into your line of women’s shoes, but I’m not the only woman buying men’s shoes.
Is there something that makes you feel out of place when you meet with important people?
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