Today I worked on my shoes. Oh boy, my shoes. I used to work at a corporate job that required heels and suits for meetings. I now walk around barefoot or in slippers and I'm a woman in comfortable (yet stylish) shoes when I go out ;)
I spent many years collecting fabulous shoes that I can't walk in now. Carrie from Sex and the City would covet my collection. Yet there they sit in their boxes gathering dust while I go about my happy barefoot homemaker/mommy life. I do not foresee wearing these shoes any time in the near future (even if I could walk in them without breaking an ankle). J's school run will be done by a mom lucky to have all her clothes buttoned much less in fancy shoes. So what to do with them? I've tried selling them with no luck. I don't want to just donate them (there's a lot of capital wrapped up in those silly stilettos) but I also don't want to be looking at them on my shelves every time I open my closet. I think I will box them up and stick them in the loft. Where all our random stuff disappears until we are ready to donate. It's sort of the way station in our lives.
Now why did I buy these shoes in the first place? Seriously. Why? One pair I have never worn and has straps so thin I'm not sure what the heck I was thinking when I did buy them. One pair was worn to a wedding and never worn again. The others were worn at times but never enough to justify their purchase.
I think it was a confluence of things. I didn't really like my job so I shopped (often right after work as a 'pick me up'). The people I worked with all liked/had/talked about/noticed labels. The successful women in my group (there were a few women) all wore expensive designer labels and I bought into the line of 'dress for the job you want'. But mostly buying expensive designer shoes made me feel good. It made me feel sexy and successful. I loved going to Neimans or Saks and trying on the shoes, walking around the shoe department, admiring myself in the mirror. I dreamed of a flashy life where I would actually wear these shoes. Dinners out, theater, galas, trips to exotic places. I mean seriously. I really, really could envision myself wearing these shoes and doing these things. And they did happen, but rarely. Mostly I came home from work exhausted and slightly depressed, showed D the shoes and put them on my closet shelf where there they sat.
I enjoy going out to eat and I do love the theater and all the rest but now when I envision doing those things again some day, I'm wearing shoes I can walk in and I'm introducing my son to these pleasures. It's not about me, it's about him and us as a family. That's so much more fulfilling.
** Update. While J napped, I moved the fancy schmancy shoes into our loft in the garage and pulled out about 6-7 pairs that I haven't worn, won't wear and/or that hurt my feet (why oh why did I ever buy them?!) and I'm giving them to a friend or donating them. I dusted the whole closet, rearranged some things and I feel SO much lighter and freer and happier. Ah what a good cleaning and getting rid of stuff can do for ones soul.**
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