What do your shoes say about you?

As the morning sun rose over the horizon, strips of sunlight broke through my window blinds, hitting my closed eyes, barely visible, near buried in the pillows that wrapped around my head.  Instead of jumping into the shower as I did when I worked, I stayed in bed, stretching my muscles, my skin gently rubbing against the soft white sheets and down comforter as I reached over switching from the southwest chant music that had been drifting out of my iPod radio all night to the NPR morning news.  This little act of listening while in bed is a jewel, cherished and guarded.  One could say, if one was to be blunt and gritty that this listening time was better than sex, but I would never say that.   

So this morning, after reporting the latest political and criminal activity, NPR began broadcasting, "If the Shoe Fits: The Rise of the Stylish Comfort Shoe."  Instead of falling into a half sleep, where the radio voices become elements of dream, I perked up and listened intently.  The story's proposition was that women's shoes more than any other article of dress reflect their personalities.  The challenge, the story continues, is that at middle age, most of women can no longer tolerate heels, but refuse to wear the "comfortable"  shoes of their mother's generation.  Really?  Can people look at my shoes and see my personality?  Should I be troubled?

Since I was 21, I wore in heels, despite the fact that I was on my feet most of the time.  If I was walking through an airport, standing in front of clients facilitating their meetings, teaching a class, or walking down the street, I had a pair of heels on well into my 60's.  Like Ginger Rogers, I acquired the skill to move smoothly backwards, sideways and forward without tripping or falling over myself; however, after 30 years, two operations on my right foot, one on my left, serious arch supports, and ankle tendons so shortened that it was difficult to walk in flats, I knew the time was coming when I had to give them up for I was starting to shop for wedgies instead of 2 or 3 inch heels.  It is amazing the pain I put up with to "look good".  I guess my personality was all about style; making me feel like a grownup, adding two inches to my height, someone to be listened to.  If we were talking about men, we'd call it "swagger," that presence that grabs attention when you walk into a room.

The reality is that I no longer need "swagger" as I no longer need to grab anyone's attention. Within two weeks of retiring, I attacked my closet.  It was easy to rid myself of all the business clothes, delivering eight huge bags of suits, shirts, jackets, scarves, handbags, and accessories to charity.  However, with my heeled shoes and boots, it was not so easy.  I wanted to cling to them, each pair reminding me of some event or time in my life.  I couldn't part with the sequin stitched black stiletto heels I wore to a "Long Island" wedding two years ago. Maybe, I thought, I might need them again, sometime in the future for some unknown swanky event.  As I picked up the pair of kinky heeled ankle boots with chains, bought in New York City three winters ago, I felt the thrill of happening discovered the small shoe salon across from an Italian grocery, while lost in the Village one cold, rainy afternoon with my husband.  I remember I giggled when I tried them on, my husband smiling, lusting after my perky strut across down the store's aisle.  I just had to have them since they were "pretty comfortable" and looked perfect with skinny jeans.  

Now, in the end, I'm down to two pair of sensible heels, in case I should ever have to be business dressed again; however, so far, they are just gathering dust.  What I do wear are flats (I'm teaching my ankle tendons to stretch to their original length).  I bought red scalloped soft loafers, black with bows, beige with rhinestones, tan with gold buckles and more.  My personality is a new style; it's more of cute comfort that surprises and delights as I can still wear my skinny jeans with them. I am unwilling to wear my mother's shoes,  At least for now.