Thursday, August 25, 2016

In which I attempt to donate some shoes.

If you're like me, every once in a while, your closet needs a little kick in the booty. And by "kick in the booty," I mean "exhaustive cleaning because you never get rid of anything and probably don't need that sweater you bought secondhand in 1991."

I recently cleaned out my shoes. Now, keep in mind that I have worn the same size shoe since fifth grade. And, my mom and I wear the same size. And I figure everything comes back, right?

However, even I couldn't deny the need to share the love. And by "love," I mean "size 6.5 shoes that I probably bought at DSW because they were on clearance and loved briefly but haven't worn in the four years I've worked from home."

I had the best of intentions. I really did.

But I caught myself having these internal dialogues. Words and phrases that would sound ludicrous if spoken aloud, but that made perfect sense rolling around in my brain.

I should also mention that I did said shoe purge while wildly hormonal. I do not recommend this.

Here's a sample of my thought process:
  • I know the heels of these shoes have literally disintegrated into dust, but I was wearing them when I walked home from a fraternity party during a thundersnow that dumped 19 inches of snow on campus overnight in January 1995. My friend Soup and I stopped to eat snow in the Lambda Chi parking lot. I couldn't possibly get rid of these shoes.
  • Should I really get rid of the shoes I wore to the closing of my first house? Probably not.
  • I wore those cork wedges on a date with Mr. I Want You To Want Me and I stepped on his foot. All things considered, I probably should have stomped on his foot. How could I get rid of such serviceable shoes?
  • I wore those shoes with my first - and, to date, only - real, grown-up suit. Sure, I bought them in 1999 and the suit has long gone on to the women's clothing version of a nice farm with plenty of room to run. But these shoes were so cool and everything comes back, even a square toed, high-heeled mary jane, right?
For what it's worth, I kept the suede pumps my mom bought in 1990 because they are on the verge of being of a "yeah, that retro style is in, but I have the real deal" ilk. And, of course, there are the stalwarts that will never be purged - my penny loafers, the shoes my grandma wore to my parents wedding (what? they fit me, and I have her dress, too), and the several many black pumps because, well, black pumps never go out of style. Even though I never wear heels anymore. Because I have kind of given up on being fancy. And my feet hurt.

Maybe cleaning out my shoes while mega hormonal wasn't the best choice. However, I was able to gift several pairs of shoes to a friend who literally squealed with delight. And I made more room in my closet for the comfort footwear that now seems to be my jam.

It all feels very, "To everything, there is a season." Which makes me miss my leopard-print Danskos. Autumn? I eagerly await you!


  1. You have leopard print Danskos? My feet envy your feet!
    I'm not sure if I should now purge old shoes from my closet or hang onto them for a time when they come back in style... wait. I know the answer. I will never wear them again because I have old lady feet and a FULF. Maybe I will purge them next year?
    But mostly I just lost myself in your link to 7 years ago and am so happy that Your Guy is Mr. Guy with Two Dogs. (For some unknown reason I wasn't reading you in 2009 and totally missed those stories. I might have just spent an hour reading up on your blog history.)

  2. Wait, I'm not supposed to wear my leopard print danskos in summer? What if it's only the patent leather pair, not the furry pair, is that acceptable? (Yes, I own TWO pairs of leopard print danskos. No, I don't have a shoe problem.)

    My husband keeps me on a no-new-net-gain rule with shoes - I can get a new pair if I get rid of an old pair, unless of course, I can prove there is a true need for the new pair - like new cowgirl boots. Those are always allowed, although there may be a small heart attack when he opens the credit card bill to see exactly how much I paid for them. Good boots are an investment I always tell him.

    He also says he can tell when I've tried to sneak a new pair of shoes into the house - apparently I get a certain happy glow that gives it away. There really is no happy like new shoe happy though.

  3. Isn't it funny how that purge rehashes your past? Happens to me, too.
    Glad you were able to part with a few...I've never regretted unloading shoes. And I find the older I get, the more "comfort" appeals to me, so getting rid of strappy "wedding" shoes and stuff becomes easier. But SWEATERS are to me what SHOES are to you, I think;)

  4. I love you guys.

    Karen, I had to google FULF. I have a FURF! And I'm so delighted you fell into a black hole on my blog. 2009 was an interesting blog year for sure.

    Becky, in no way do you have a shoe problem, and you can totally wear your leopard print Danskos in the summer! But I have to wear mine with socks and feel like an idiot wearing the sock/Dansko combo with skirts b/c I can't wear jeans in the summer b/c it's like the FRIGGIN' FACE OF THE SUN where I live. So, I "save" the Danskos for cooler weather. However, I am now living vicariously through you. And yes, good boots are always a worthwhile investment.

    Green Girl, I'm glad it's not just me. And truthfully? If I lived in Wisconsin, my sweater stash would be YUGE. I'm sure that whatever sweaters you have are necessary and not at all the sign of a problem. A girl's gotta keep warm, right?

  5. Becky, I just googled FULF and I hope you took the 2nd hit, which should take you here:
    Because that first google hit went somewhere strange... something about getting naked at parties and I don't want to know what it is!

  6. OMG! I should have let you have a peek into my coat closet when you were here! But a girl living in Northern WI can't have too many coats, right? There is one or two that fit me several years ago that would be perfect for you......