Sensible shoes
For me, that phrase conjures up images of Ruth Buzzy's little old lady character from Laugh-In: hunched shoulders, dowdy clothes, hair net, sour expression, support hose and big clunkie, decidedly unglamourous, sensible shoes. Ugh.
I never thought I'd buy anything that might resemble wise footwear, although, I'm not exactly a fashion maven. I'm more likely to recognize Nike Air Walkers than shoes made by Jimmy Choo (I can't help it, but when I hear the name, I want to say, "Bless you!"). Sex In the City stilleto sleekness is not for me but I certainly don't don Olive Oyl clodhoppers either. I expect from my shoes the same things I expect from my car: reliable, comfortable, good-looking, reasonably priced, but most importantly, they need to get me from here to there. Hmmm, that falls dangerously close to what might be the definition for sensible shoes.
February is a crazy month of garden shows. That translates to lots of walking for many days on unforgiving convention floors and sore feet. With images of tottering tenderly on swollen soles, I headed to the mall to see if I could find a marriage of happy feet and fashion. Or at least happy feet and cute. Yes, cute would suffice.
I came home with a pair of Dansko shoes. It was a purchase that required opening my wallet more than I have ever paid for a pair of shoes. $114? Gasp! But I reminded myself of the overwhelming praise these shoes have received from nurses and others who are on their feet for hours and hours. "They are handcrated," said the saleswoman, "They'll last you for years. You'll love them so much, you'll be back for 5 more pairs." Really? Somehow I didn't see myself shelling out almost $600 dollars for more shoes but I would gamble on $114 worth of comfort.
My Danskos stood up to the test, literally. I conquered 6 days on concrete-hard convention floors with nairy a blister or a hint of soreness. They even provided TLC in the days after I stubbed my toe hard against the hotel room door (ow, ow, ow, stupid, stupid, stupid). My big toe was swollen and lovely shades of blue, purple and green, and it refused to submit to my slightly more stylish loafers. Thank goodness I was able to slide my foot into my Danskos. If not for them, I would have had to cancel (or show up barefoot!) to my appointment to meet and impress my future managing editor. That alone justified the shoes' price and then some.
I'm not convinced that I'll return to buy 5 more pairs, as the saleswoman predicted, but I will confess that I wear nothing but my Danskos these days. I love, love, love these shoes! However, it does mean that I will have to refine my image of sensible shoes (but they are cute!) because I refuse to admit that I now own a pair. Oh, the games we play in our heads.
Psst... the average American woman owns 40 pairs of shoes. So, what I need to know is, who owns more than average to make up for my meager collection?
I never thought I'd buy anything that might resemble wise footwear, although, I'm not exactly a fashion maven. I'm more likely to recognize Nike Air Walkers than shoes made by Jimmy Choo (I can't help it, but when I hear the name, I want to say, "Bless you!"). Sex In the City stilleto sleekness is not for me but I certainly don't don Olive Oyl clodhoppers either. I expect from my shoes the same things I expect from my car: reliable, comfortable, good-looking, reasonably priced, but most importantly, they need to get me from here to there. Hmmm, that falls dangerously close to what might be the definition for sensible shoes.
February is a crazy month of garden shows. That translates to lots of walking for many days on unforgiving convention floors and sore feet. With images of tottering tenderly on swollen soles, I headed to the mall to see if I could find a marriage of happy feet and fashion. Or at least happy feet and cute. Yes, cute would suffice.
I came home with a pair of Dansko shoes. It was a purchase that required opening my wallet more than I have ever paid for a pair of shoes. $114? Gasp! But I reminded myself of the overwhelming praise these shoes have received from nurses and others who are on their feet for hours and hours. "They are handcrated," said the saleswoman, "They'll last you for years. You'll love them so much, you'll be back for 5 more pairs." Really? Somehow I didn't see myself shelling out almost $600 dollars for more shoes but I would gamble on $114 worth of comfort.
My Danskos stood up to the test, literally. I conquered 6 days on concrete-hard convention floors with nairy a blister or a hint of soreness. They even provided TLC in the days after I stubbed my toe hard against the hotel room door (ow, ow, ow, stupid, stupid, stupid). My big toe was swollen and lovely shades of blue, purple and green, and it refused to submit to my slightly more stylish loafers. Thank goodness I was able to slide my foot into my Danskos. If not for them, I would have had to cancel (or show up barefoot!) to my appointment to meet and impress my future managing editor. That alone justified the shoes' price and then some.
I'm not convinced that I'll return to buy 5 more pairs, as the saleswoman predicted, but I will confess that I wear nothing but my Danskos these days. I love, love, love these shoes! However, it does mean that I will have to refine my image of sensible shoes (but they are cute!) because I refuse to admit that I now own a pair. Oh, the games we play in our heads.
Psst... the average American woman owns 40 pairs of shoes. So, what I need to know is, who owns more than average to make up for my meager collection?
posted by bemused at 10:46 AM
2 Comments:
Welcome to the world of Danskos! I love them. FYI, there's a clog outlet on NE Broadway that carries them for much less than standard retail. Check them out!
And p.s., take care of that toe. That hurt just reading about it!
Oh, man, I wish I'd known about that outlet before my mall purchase! I love my Danskos and I love a bargain so this is good news for me. Thanks for the heads-up, lelo.
My toe is fine now, thanks. K predicted I'd lose my toenail but it hasn't happened yet so I think I'm in the clear. I still can't believe I was so clumsy. Oh, wait, yes, I can since I've done stupidly painful things like that before. Just call me Grace! LOL
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