Skip to main content

If the Shoe Fits



   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

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Getting well takes baby steps

So I’ve had what you could call a case of the pneumonia. It was not pleasant. And to top it off it happened in San Antonio, Texas. Like I wasn’t sweating before the fever.
I was there to see my niece Michelle, who by the way kept asking me, “Are you going to write about this?” which is funny because she’s a writer too. I naturally said, “Oh no, of course not.” And here we are.
Thinking back, the best part of that trip teeters between meeting my two great-nephews, Oliver and Isaac, and having a couple of beers with their Yaya, my sister, who I haven’t had beers with in decades. Like I said, it’s a toss-up. There’s also the fact that I got to spend time with my niece’s husband Alex. He’s a hardcore military guy. He teaches other military guys how to be military policemen. I’m not going to gamble on writing anything about him. He’s from Wisconsin though, which I like. And he likes to cook, which I also like.
I thought to myself before I ever left my nice cocoon of Martha’s Vineyard to tra…

Just sitting around doing jack

I think my blog may have been hijacked. I haven’t written in forever because I’ve been writing …for my job, which may mean I’m no longer a “jobless goddess.” I may just be a regular goddess.
I love the word jack. I could use that all day. Whatever, hopefully those who want to read the blog will read. Back to jack. It’s a cool freaking word. I had a brother-in-law named Jack who pretty much personified the word “cool.” He’s gone too soon and missed by everybody.
There’s Billy Jack, get back Jack, Jack Sprat, Jack Nicholson, Jack Berry, Jack in the Box, Jumping Jack Flash. And my favorite, a little ditty my sister introduced me to, “Jack Mother.” This is a something you say when someone cuts you off on the highway. “I’m sorry officer, I was cut off by that Jack Mother in the blue Subaru.”
My brother Steve has a friend named Jack. I thought he was about the greatest thing ever when I was 12. Who are we kidding? I probably still do. Jackie was hilariously funny and I loved to watch my brot…

Little women

I’m getting a real kick out of my co-workers these days. I’m working with about a half dozen young women — young being the operative word.
They’re all so freaking competent it kills me. They can write like it’s nobody’s business, they all take great photos to go with their stories, and they almost always laugh at my jokes. I call them ‘the girls.’
They’re either about to go to university, just leaving university, or all done with it and on their way. They do yoga and eat a lot of avocados. We live on Martha’s Vineyard and none of them know who John Belushi is but they all know they should keep using the same plastic cup for take out iced coffee over and over and over again. If they see a bug, they think twice before killing it. Actually they leave it for me to kill because they couldn’t possibly… and they know I won’t hesitate.
We get along just fine the girls and me. Oh, there’s a little trouble when I insist on running the window air conditioner up in our second floor office —ramsha…