Saturday, March 15, 2008

Finally, the girl gets shoes...

I don't get shoes. Never have. I live in a couple of pairs until they fall to bits (or start to smell so bad that even I can't stand it), then I go reluctantly shopping and buy some more. Actually, things have improved markedly since Marvellous Jill and I became friends. Marvellous Jill works in a fabulous shoe shop

However.

Marvellous Jill notwithstanding, I just didn't get all this fuss about women having lots of pairs of shoes. Given that you cannot wear more than one pair at a time and they are just a pain to store, I could never understand WHY anyone would saddle themselves with more than one or two pairs.

Yes.

Imelda Marcos and I would have had little to chat about.

But then, in reading about The Red Shoes, see my post below (no not the one moaning about my utterly horrid desk the one below that) I came across this...
Socially, shoes send a signal, a way of recognising one type of person from another. Artists often wear shoes that are quite different from those worn
by, say engineers. Shoes can tell something about what we like, sometimes even who we are aspiring to be, the persona we are trying out.

Suddenly it all makes sense. I get why girls love shoes.

Not to mention the fact that my shoes are saying...
  1. that I like old smelly falling apart things (like hubby for example),
  2. and that I am aspiring to be someone who wears sandals (Jesus perhaps? Ghandi maybe?)
  3. and that the persona I am trying-out is aiming to be comfortable and well-worn (downtrodden, if you will).
Yes, shall whip out my Manolo Blanicks for Mother's Group next week. That'll show 'em.