On the off chance that my husband might actually read this, I decided to make it about the red boots and not shoes I could put in a museum.
I bought these boots in Chicago during the most wonderful girls weekend ever. It’s a weekend in my adult womanhood that will always bring a smile to my face. The weekend had been planned for a little over a year. It was the first time I truly saved up money for anything. There were six ladies; my mom was my roomie.
Clicking my red boots, “There is no place like Chicago!” Was it the pizza? Was it the spa treatments? Was it the slumber party, drinks and dessert? The hotel? Five o’clock tea at The Drake? Was it the shopping on the Magnificent Mile? The popcorn? Eating at P.F. Chang’s? Or was it being in awe of the biggest Macy’s I had ever seen?
I can tell you without question, all of that was great, but it was all about the red boots. I absolutely believe in soul mates, and love at first sight in regards to these boots. My mom fell in love too. We had paired off from the group to go look at shoes. We aren’t big shoppers, but who can pass up a shoe store? We looked at the boots at the same time and said, “Oooooo”. We asked for the same size, hoping the sales clerk would come back with two boxes. We wait nervously as she takes a while to come back. She comes back with two boxes and our eyes light up, but quickly dim as she announces, one is a half size smaller. We both try on one of each. Satisfied that I can fit the half size smaller, we both buy the boots. I spot the purse at the register. Mom says it’s too small. I snatch it up anyway; there’s only one. I might regret if I leave it behind. I wouldn’t have.
During the weekend, mom and I had bought identical boots, shirts, and red shawls – agreeing that as much as we wanted to, neither would wear it to the five o’clock tea. If we didn’t look touristy enough with bright eyes in the city lights, we would have looked more so as mother/daughter twins tipping down Michigan Avenue.
In the winter of 2009, I pulled my boots out of the box to wear. I put them on and said, “Ewwww”. They were so 2006 and I was sad. Each season thereafter I pull them out to see what they look like. I took them out of the box yesterday. They look “Eww" (two less w’s); they still aren’t back in style.
Here’s the thing... my feet are a little fatter than they were in 2006, never mind the rest of me. So the boots are now a little pinchy. When long pointy feet come back in style, I’ll just stand in my museum for a photo op. As for the purse, it never was good for anything more than holding my keys, cellphone and lip-gloss. However, it will remain in the box with the red boots that I will keep forever.
Here's the other thing...mom doesn't have her boots anymore. She said by the time they came back in style she would be too old to wear them.
What's the story behind your favorite shoe?
Kenya G. Johnson