Magic Shoes

Someone needs to sweep the stairs.

Someone needs to sweep the stairs.

To be clear, I am not a shoe fanatic. I own more pairs of sneakers than heels and generally favor comfort over flash. My motto: quality over quantity; if I like them, I really like them (true in my love life as well, but that’s for another day). I have never understood the appeal of owning an entire closet of shoes when you can only wear one pair at a time. But once in a while, a pair of shoes will grab even my attention. Once upon a time, teenaged me coveted a pair of black patent leather oxfords which were outside the range of an eighth grade fashion budget. My mom eventually caved, after I promised to wear them, like, all the time. Which I did. I wore them pretty much every day for the next year. I wore them until they were scuffed and lost their shine. I polished them with Vaseline, the way the lady at the store recommended, after which I wore them scuffed and coated in a thin layer of petroleum jelly. I wore them until my mother begged me to buy a new pair of shoes.

Since then, there have been others: a pair of brown riding boots that were a splurge even with a deep discount, but that I still wear ten years later. The high-heeled Mary Janes that helped me get hired for my day job (my then-interviewer and now work-husband still refers to them with nostalgia). A pair of Kate Spade gold glitter (I am a sucker for glitter) open-toe pumps that I’ve shared a few, ahem, escapades with.

Last week, I found another pair of shoes that I just had to have. There’s no rhyme or reason why a certain pair catches my fancy, I just know it when I see it (would that this didn’t also apply to my love life). These were sitting on a sale shelf in all their metallic chocolatey goodness. There were only two pairs left, one in my size. Serendipity. When I find shoes like these, I (half) jokingly call them Magic Shoes. Shoes that make you smile, add a spring to your step, and make you feel like the path you will embark on together is full of promise and adventure. They are the sartorial equivalent of a four-leaf clover, a ladybug, a shiny penny on the sidewalk.

Dorothy had her ruby red slippers. I have my T-strap shooties. Today is a good day to walk a mile in my shoes!

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