It is an inescapable fact of female living that the one thing that you need to buy wardrobe-wise will inevitably be out of season whenever it is that you need it most.
When you’re looking for a simple grey skirt, pastels will be in. When all you want is an argyle sweater, suddenly cables are all the rage again. If you want flat, you’ll find heels. If you want boots, the rest of the world wants espadrilles.
First world woes, I know. But if the fashion world would just get its hoity-toity act together and think sensibly, my life, and the life of most women, would be considerably less frustrating.
I am currently in search of flat sandals. One, my wide feet are more comfortable when they have room to move around. Two, I don’t like shoes with heels. Three, the warmth of my feet is directly related to the warmth of my body, therefore I don’t want to wear anything that will keep my feet hot and sweaty during these early weeks of spring. Last but not least, I am currently seeing someone who is precisely my height, and if I wear anything with even the tiniest heel, I look about two inches taller. I don’t mind, and I’m not sure he does either, but just to be on the safe side, I’m trying to invest in flats. I don’t mind at all. See reason number Two.
It’s springtime, and the sandal sales and sandal shoppers are out in droves. Every Sunday afternoon I check the sales papers in search of perfectly flat sandals—no heel, all sole, with some kind of ornamentation on the strap. I see girls wearing them all the time. Piece of cake, right?
Apparently those girls bought them all last spring. No matter where I go, all I can find is strappy sandals with ten-inch heels that look like they could give you bunions in about five minutes of walking. If they have no heels, their soles are about two inches thick—flat, but defeating the purpose of a flat shoe. Apparently all the other women in the world are self-conscious about their height except me, who is desperately trying to look shorter.
The one pair I did find that fit all the qualifications cost as much as a down payment on a Ferrari. Why, I don’t know—the thing had less material than half a hankie, and I’m pretty sure the sole was made of cardboard. Fashion. Feh.
I know that most of the women in the world will disagree with me when I say this. But it must be said: Whoever invented the high-heeled shoe should be slapped. Shame on him/her for putting women through the pain he/she has. If the Lord wanted girls to walk that way, He would have bent our feet into permanent tip-toes and left it at that. He gave us bottoms to our feet for a reason, ladies. I’m positive that He fully intended us to use our feet, not abuse them.
(Ironically, if my memory serves me correctly, it was a man who invented the first high-heeled shoes for the vertically challenged Louis XIV. So, yes, high-heels were originally intended for men. Maybe it should have stayed that way. Maybe.)
Meanwhile, I continue to search for my flat sandals. They’ve got to be out there somewhere—whether they’re popular right now or not. I will find them. Then my toes will be free, my feet will be cool, my feet will not hurt, and my gentleman friend and I can see eye-to-eye.
If any of you ladies know of a good sale, let me know.