Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Shoes

Women love shoes. Pocketbooks, purses, make-up, clothes...all good. But most women I know really, really love shoes. Except me.

See, I have very few shoes and they all fit into one of these categories: flip flops, boots, sneakers and dress up shoes. That's it. Maybe 1 or 2 of each kind and I'm good to go. If it wasn't for watching shows like Sex & the City or talking to my own girlfriends, I can guarantee you that I wouldn't have heard of a single shoe designer. In fact, I didn't even know you could be a shoe designer. I cannot tell the difference between Jimmy Choo and Manolo Blahnik and Christian Leboutin. Don't even ask me what styles are in this season. I cannot understand the fascination with "peep-toe" and haven't got a clue what a slingback is (some sort of drink???)

I'm telling you all of this because when a man with a shoe fetish falls for a girl, I'm the furthest thing away from the one he should choose. Yet that's what happened.

They should come with warning labels, these fetish-prone men. Like, right on the profile, it should say "26 y/o, single, caucasian, 5'7, loves feet & shoes." Put it right up front where we can see it clearly, like the calorie count at a fast food restaurant. This way, I know what I'm getting into from the start.

It started innocently enough. He texted me to ask what I was doing that day and I said "getting a pedicure." Bad idea. Unless you know for CERTAIN that you are not dating one of these men, do not, under any circumstances, mention feet. (Or anything else that could be perceived as freaky early on in a relationship.) He hoped I was having fun and why didn't I send a picture when my toes were all cute? Um, sure, ok, no problem. I did have sparkly flip flops on and looked particularly adorable, so why not, right?

And that's how Pandora's box got opened.

A few days later, I was going to a fancy luncheon and trying to get dressed. He texted me again to say "have fun at the party." I wrote back I'd have more fun if I could figure out which shoes would go with my dress. Honestly, I want to get married on the beach someday just to attend my own wedding barefoot! My happiness ratio is directly proportionate to how mandatory shoe-wearing is. But this brunch was a dress and heels occasion so he suggested I try on all my shoes, send him pictures and he'd help me decide which ones worked best. Fine, if someone else can make this decision for me, even better. I'm absolute crap at picking things out for myself. Which is why when this blog goes on tour eventually, I'm taking a stylist with me to pick out all my outfits. The best decision my parents ever made for me was to send me to a Catholic school complete with uniforms! The relief of never having to pick out my own outfit...sigh...I miss those days.

But I digress.

I try on a pair of black leather Mary Janes with a little silver buckle. A slip-on pair of black patent heels with a tiny bow in the front. A shiny red pair which kill my big toes. A soft suede pair of knee-high boots with tiny silver tassels hanging down. And finally, my sparkly sandals. I message him photos of each one and he can't get over how sexy they all are.

Sexy? Feet? Seriously?

I feel it necessary to tell you, dear reader, that I am not a normal girl shopper. I would rather buy books than shoes any day of the week. When I do have to shop for shoes, it's at Payless and I usually have a coupon. I have never spent more than $20 on any pair and can't begin to fathom how a person can justify blowing what I make in a week on any accessory that comes in contact with a Manhattan sidewalk. And I know that many of you are in fact, just that type of woman and I admire you for it. I wish I could bring myself to lust after these designer brands of footwear. It's just not in me. From the ripe old age of toddlerhood, my mother swore that if she ever felt the need to kill me, it would be in a shoe store. I seem to be missing the shoe gene.

So when this guy started sending messages of how beautiful / sexy / gorgeous my feet were in all those shoes, I realized he was more than I could handle. But for all you girls that want a man who'd love nothing more than to buy pretty things for your feet and give you foot massages, I'll send you his number! Just be sure you've had a pedicure recently...

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