2000-07-13

Big Girl Shoes

Today I did the unthinkable. I bought a pair of Big Girl Shoes�, or more specifically, Big Girl Sandals.

Understand that prior to today, my summer footwear has been, in a word, impractical. Strappy, chunky platform monstrosities purchased for exactly what they were worth in terms of longevity and craftsmanship. I'd come home with shredded feet and twisted ankles, yet I would refuse to face the Ugly Truth� of the situation, which in essence is twofold: I'm 29 years old, and I have flat feet. I am too old to be tottering around in shoes that look ridiculous even on someone 10 years younger than I, and even if I were 19, I shouldn't be wearing them, because of my pathetic, ugly, practically arch-less feet. I mean, they look like scuba flippers, kids.

Anyway.

So I did the unthinkable. I went to The Walking Company, purveyors of fine, practical footwear for We Who Are Ready to Admit We're No Longer Cool, if Indeed We Ever Were Cool to Begin With�. And I bought, for no small sum, a decent and well-constructed pair of sandals.

The sturdy, clog-wearing sales associate cheerfully rang up my order, instructing me on the Care & Feeding of my Big Girl Sandals, and as she handed me my receipt and change ("One Lucky Penny!" she chirped), she squinted at my faded concert t-shirt, uncomprehending, then squealed unconvincingly, "OOhhhhhhh -- Peter MUR-pheeeeeee!!!

(Regular readers will take note of my re-evaluation, and subsequent acceptance, of the togs of my Dirty Goth Past�, since Monday's entry. It's a lost cause. I fully expect to start coming into work wearing mantillas and ankle boots any day now.)

Don't hate me 'cause my feet are spreading.

lisamcc at 01:14:25

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