(OR NO LOVE )
For almost 3 decades, I’ve had a love-hate, and “hate some more” relationship with shoes. I love them, but my feet do not. I wear the same size shoe as Oprah, except my feet are wide. Moreover, I do not have 
Oprah’s money; hence the “hate some more,” part of the union.
Now, this is no pity party—just the pitiful facts. By the time I was 12-years-old, my shoe size rivaled that of the average grown woman’s. The constant joker, I thought the shit was funny. That lasted about 3 minutes when I realize that I was stuck with my feet and that they might not stop growing. I grow straight up embarrassed and ashamed. Even the mention of shoe size brings me to tears. Many a shoe shopping trip with my Mom ends in an argument. Everything that she picks out that was affordable I find ugly. Anything I think the least bit attractive is either outrageously expensive, or simply not available in my size. Salesgirls look at me with either disdain or pity. By my sophomore year of high school, all I want are sneakers or boots. Neither let me down on cost or fit. When I join the military, combat boots fit me, like an old pair of shoes—pun intended. Sure, they blistered the first few months, but as soon as I could afford it, I buy a couple of different pairs of stylish boots that make me feel like a rock star.
I dated my (now ex-) husband for almost six months before he knew what size shoe I wore. From jump, I was determined he would never know that the sweet young thang he was seeing had ocean liners for feet. But one night as we cuddle on the couch in his barracks room, he happens to look down and see my shoe size staring at him. Initially, he guffaws and teases. When he realizes, however, how sensitive I was on the issue, he offers the following words, “Big feet, tight coochie.” As he is a decade older and had “been some places,” he probably thought (and maybe still thinks), this was some deep shit—pun intended. And as a young girl impressed by almost any damn thing, I giggled then, and any time he told me this when I became frustrated with my “big ass feet.”
Oprah’s money; hence the “hate some more,” part of the union.Now, this is no pity party—just the pitiful facts. By the time I was 12-years-old, my shoe size rivaled that of the average grown woman’s. The constant joker, I thought the shit was funny. That lasted about 3 minutes when I realize that I was stuck with my feet and that they might not stop growing. I grow straight up embarrassed and ashamed. Even the mention of shoe size brings me to tears. Many a shoe shopping trip with my Mom ends in an argument. Everything that she picks out that was affordable I find ugly. Anything I think the least bit attractive is either outrageously expensive, or simply not available in my size. Salesgirls look at me with either disdain or pity. By my sophomore year of high school, all I want are sneakers or boots. Neither let me down on cost or fit. When I join the military, combat boots fit me, like an old pair of shoes—pun intended. Sure, they blistered the first few months, but as soon as I could afford it, I buy a couple of different pairs of stylish boots that make me feel like a rock star.
I dated my (now ex-) husband for almost six months before he knew what size shoe I wore. From jump, I was determined he would never know that the sweet young thang he was seeing had ocean liners for feet. But one night as we cuddle on the couch in his barracks room, he happens to look down and see my shoe size staring at him. Initially, he guffaws and teases. When he realizes, however, how sensitive I was on the issue, he offers the following words, “Big feet, tight coochie.” As he is a decade older and had “been some places,” he probably thought (and maybe still thinks), this was some deep shit—pun intended. And as a young girl impressed by almost any damn thing, I giggled then, and any time he told me this when I became frustrated with my “big ass feet.”
Yet as I trudge through Dillard's tonight, I am not giggling. I’m pissed, hurt, and almost depressed. Why cannot I find shoes I can afford in MY size? A male friend recently suggested I order them online. “It's just not the same,” I whine. For me, it is about walking into the store and having a pair shoes call out to you. Or walking past the window display—especially on 5th Avenue in NYC, and seeing “the” pair of shoes. Once, upon finding the most perfect pair of Bjorn sandals on clearance in Value City, I declared aloud that if I had to choose between the sandals and a man, the sandals would have my undying love and the man would receive my deepest regrets. Ordering online takes all the romance out of buying shoes. Plus, if they don’t fit or just aren’t the shoes you thought they were you gotta send them back.
Recently, I w
as at an event at Carol’s Daughter in Lenox Mall. While there, I cross paths with a tall woman about my age with the natural yet radiant looks of a model. In a word, this Sister was gorgeous. She overheard me talking about my shoe issue and chimes in, “I have the same love-hate issue to—I love ‘em, but hate looking for them! I can never find what I want!” She further advises that she wears a size 11, wide!While I should have been relieved that a beautiful woman who simply lit up a room was having shoe issues, too, alas I was even more saddened.
So tonight as I reflect on the whole pathetic situation—plight of the big feet women, I consider my ex-husband’s remarks again. Over time, of course, I realize that he made up this outrageous, ridiculous shit to win the affections of an impressionable, naïve girl. Still, I feel that perhaps there is some validity to what he said. You see, women with large feet have a difficult time finding shoes to wear, and therefore more often than not, do not date much—hence the tight coochie…
Axe.
Currently Listening To: Square Biz by Teena Marie
1 comment:
I so feel you on this one! I'm a size 11 at best, but more accurately a 10.5. Now, *that* is a hard size to find! And I agree about the online thing, too. Just not the same. Funny enough, a good friend of my has small feet, size 6, and she is just as sensitive about hers!
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