We've discovered that I have a hard time finding shoes that fit. I love shoes. I hate shoes. I mentioned a couple of times this week that I'd like to put tape on the soles of my feet and walk around barefoot all the time.
On Tuesday, I got all dolled up in my favorite dress and unearthed my brown dress sandals. It was 30 degrees, but I am more than ready for spring. I'd been at work for about five minutes when I remembered why I thought I had thrown them away. They are SO loud. They squeak with every step. I HATE them. I ended up taking them off and carrying them around for most of the day.
Tuesday night, I hit Body Pump and then the shoe store. I tried on every pair of clearance shoes they had in my size, and a few that weren't. I broke my left foot while walking my dog nine and a half years ago...the grass was wet and I slipped, twisting my ankle hard enough for the ligament to pull the bone away. (Yes, OW!) My doctor had me wrap it up, but decided it wasn't worth casting. I struggled for weeks on crutches--hobbling around my college campus with a heavy back pack, no less. (I remember walking into the the science building for my physics class that first day, stumbling along behind a guy who was also on crutches. I asked him what happened. "Broke my foot playing football. You?" I laughed. "Broke mine walking my dog." I am SO graceful.) Due my
I tossed aside shoe after shoe, grumbling to myself about my stupid, ugly, fat feet. (Okay, not really. I used to work there, for crying out loud. I clean up after myself.) I couldn't find anything that fit. Not one pair. Nothing on clearance. Not the $65.00 pair of dress sandals. NOTHING fit. Not even a little bit. I stomped out of the store and down the strip center to the Fat Lady store.
At the Fat Lady store, I found exactly 6 pairs of the ugliest shoes I've ever seen in my entire life. (I'm not talking my gramma's Naturalizers, either.) They came in sizes 10, 11, and 12 wides. Not my size. (About an eight and a half. Sometimes an 8. Sometimes a 9. 8 and 3/4 Wide would be my perfect size.) I was crabby and sweaty and tired from Pump, so I left without even scouring the clearance racks.
I headed off to the discount shoe store, where I had purchased the hated squeaky sandals. I searched high and low for the elusive (W) sticker and tried on every pair I could find. Too flat. Too high. Too closed. Too open. Too fancy. Too ugly. Tell me again why I can't go barefoot all the time? Tell me!
I finally settled on two pairs that I don't absolutely hate. They were buy one, get one half off, and I paid $32 for both of them. Not terrible, but I'm not in love with them.
What's a girl with irregular feet to do?