Friday, December 10, 2010
Red shoes make me think of my friend Paula. Paula is a 6' blonde haired, blue eyed, Swedish power house. Ok, she's not Swedish like from Sweden, she's Swedish like from Nebraska... but still.
So, she's got these amazing legs, and she's sometimes shy, but she forgets to be shy sometimes, and most of those times have to do with the right pair of shoes.
The first time I noticed this phenomenon was when she bought a pair of blood red strappy heels. Not tame heels like tall girls normally wear, HEELS! 4 inches of power to the woman within... those were some great shoes. When Paula put them on, she became a different woman. She forgot to be shy. She forgot to be self deprecating. She forgot to be apologetic for being 2 inches taller than the average male. She forgot that clothes are just clothes and should be purchased for function first, price second, and fashion last. She remembered that she's beautiful. She remembered that people like her. She remembered that she can make heads turn for good reasons! This is the power shoes can have. This is why women like to have more than just the minimum number of shoes. For me, that's 13 pairs. Black and brown pairs for both summer and winter, both casual and dressy, a nice pair of heels for both summer and winter, one pair boots, one pair sneakers, and a pair that are older than dirt that you don't care if they get destroyed for housework, yard work and hard work. Minimum. I also think every woman should own a pair of mary janes, mules and a sandal that doesn't make her feel like a frumpy hippy, but those are more guidelines. Other women may disagree about the number and necessity, so I suppose the real number of shoes you should have is the number of shoes that you wear. So there's my mini-manifesto on shoes.
Sadly, there weren't enough opportunities for Paula to get to wear the blood red heels of strappy awesomeness. Over the course of about a million years* however, Paula stopped needing the shoes to feel like a million bucks. On most days, anyway. One of our best friends is getting married tomorrow, and Paula gets to wear the most wonderful shade of red as a bridesmaid. Imagine my shock when she told me she bought new shoes to go with the dress. They're also pretty dang fabulous. High heels, black, peep toed... very nice, and they do all the same things the original shoes of amazing did for her. She paired them with a red and black top in two sassy sheer layers that added up to one smokin' outfit. Those million years* really did teach her a lot about not being afraid to be her awesome, amazing, butt-kicking, name-taking self.
I will be wearing red shoes to the wedding, inspired by Paula. Mine are pointy toe things, with a sparkly bit that holds some strappy bits that don't really serve any purpose other than to be pretty. They also have heels that make me taller than 85% of the population. I will wear them and forget to be ashamed to be tall. I will wear them and remember that people like me. And then, because I am me, I will take them off and be happily barefoot.
*This is, perhaps, a slight exaggeration.