Like most women with a big-boned build, my online shopping choices tend to lean toward footwear. The last time I ordered shoes online, though, I discovered I had ordered men's shoes by mistake. My first clue was when I tried them on and my husband said, “I think my dad has shoes like that.” His dad will be 84 in June.
I considered keeping them rather than going through the aggravation of sending them back. It’s just that they felt kind of weird, too. Believe me I walked around the house in them for a while. I’m not a quitter. Besides, if I took them back, I’d have to find the packing tape, change out of my pajama pants to go to the post office, not to mention brushing my hair and teeth for the whole affair. Just not worth it.
My other issue with shoe shopping is that my feet aren’t meant to be in anything other than Skechers at this point. I’ve let these piggies roam free in stretched-out canvas for so long that they can’t be pent up now. If I was smart, I would have molded them to a point years ago. It’s too late now. If I put my foot into one of those high-fashion numbers I might as well strap on a bear trap and go to work.
I don’t know how women squeeze their feet into some of the shoes they wear. Their feet must look like flippers from a sci-fi movie when they take their shoes off once they get home. I imagine them unfurling like birthday streamers.
The only good outcome from wearing high heels is that when you wear them, you look at least five pounds lighter. And I have to admit those women look a bit more put together than yours truly. It’s rare that you see a woman in heels wearing elastic waist pants. Which brings me to my final argument; heels just don’t go with the rest of my wardrobe.
I still think the internet is a little bit too much like magic on a Bewitched episode.Shopping online still feels like it did when I got my first credit card: ooooohhh let's buy some pretties without really having monnneeeyyyy.
Since we’re talking magic, how about if you throw in the slender ankle pictured with the shoe? Now I’m interested.
You know you're old when someone compliments you on your alligator shoes, and you're barefoot. - Phyllis Diller