Women in Comfortable Shoes

You will never see me teetering around in stiletto heels like some newborn calf on stilts.  I just can't do it.  I actually REFUSE to do it.  High heels have never been a thing for me.  I hit five foot seven inches in eighth grade.  I was already towering over all of the boys.  Extra height is not something I ever wanted.  And now, even though I've become the incredible, shrinking woman at five foot six, I don't feel the need to make myself artificially taller.

I love shoes.  My shoe addiction has not reached Imelda Marcos' level, but I do love shoes. More specifically, I love comfortable, funky ones. I read with great interest an article entitled "Women Only Need Six Pairs of Shoes to Get By".  I chuckled most of the way through it.  I have WAY more than six pairs, but of the suggested list, I only have one pair that meet the "must-have" criteria.


Stylist Wendy Mak suggests the following belong in our wardrobe:  

1. a classic black heel
2. a nude or tan wedge
3. a strappy heel
4. a ballet flat
5. a dressy thong (not to be confused with nice, rubber flip-flops)
6. a knee-high boot (yeah, this is the only one I have...and they're motorcycle boots)

Her list seems to be lacking in practicality.  Where are the athletic shoes?  Where are the hiking shoes?  Where are the sensible shoes for every day wear?  What about the flip-flops?  My issues arise when comparing MY wardrobe requirements with a STYLIST'S wardrobe requirements. Perhaps her list was for runway models.  Perhaps it's for business women who never have to walk farther than down the hall at work.  Perhaps she assumes our number one priority is looking good.

Looking good would be fine, if it also felt good.  You see, I have some problems finding shoes that FIT, and then, when I find a pair that FITS, I have

a further requirement that my feet must feel comfortable in the shoes.  My biggest problem is that I have large feet; I take a women's size 11, a men's 9 1/2.  MEN'S???  Oh, yes, I wear men's shoes, too.  They tend to offer the wiggle room my toes crave, so I've been known to shop the men's section, too.

There are times I have bought shoes simply because my feet slid into them easily.  You may be thinking I should just wear the boxes they came in.  Don't tempt me!  As an awkward teenager, I had worn shoes several sizes too small, just to avoid the stigma of having large feet.  Now I tend to overcompensate by buying shoes a little on the large side.  The problem with making sure they're roomy enough is that sometimes I don't detect that my feet are actually sliding around in them, which causes problems of its own.

There is simply nothing better than bare feet, but when shoes are required, my next best choice is an open-toed sandal, like Birkenstocks. My New Balance and Merrell hiking shoes are always comfy, and my chunky Bjørn and Dansko shoes feel great, too.

After reviewing the list, I can see why occasions for semi-formal wear throw me for a loop.  "I got nothin'."  This spring, before I retired, I vowed to only have clothes and shoes in my closet that were COMFORTABLE.  Yes, I've reached that AGE where comfort comes before fashion.  I purged my closet of any shoe that didn't fit perfectly, or any that were what Oprah calls her One Hour Shoes. (Look nice, but you can only stand to wear them for an hour.)  I had a darling girl in my fifth grade class who wore the same size as I do, and I gave them to her.

I gave her a few pairs during the school year, and I ended up making two deliveries to her house this past summer.  "Does your husband think you're the shoe queen?" she asked me.

"He can't say anything; his closet is full of shoes, too," I told her.  "At least I'm giving away the ones I don't wear any more."  She was so grateful.  It freed up lots of space in my closet...for more shoes!  I was on a mission to find only comfortable shoes I loved.

Fashion is a strange thing, isn't it?  I like to think I have a classic style, but that's just because I don't catch on to the latest trends until they're on their way out of fashion.  Since I tend to wear what's comfortable, my style runs somewhere between resort casual to yoga class dropout.

Here are my shoe staples:

1. a Birkenstock in a cheerful color
2. a Merrell sandal in subdued tones
3. a sturdy Teva water sandal
4. a minimalist hiking shoe in a bright color to locate me, in case I'm ever lost in a rock slide
5. a nice hiking shoe with more support and protection for hiking rocky trails
6. a knee-high boot, which happens to be Harley-Davidson brand
7. comfortable shoes (like Dansko or, in my case, Bjørn)

Now that summer is winding down, and the cooler temperatures of autumn are approaching, I am painfully aware that I need to start wearing my closed toe shoes.  And I am also recognizing the need for something nicer to wear with skirts and dresses.  I need help, folks.  Any ideas?  

My bucket list has one strange item on it. I want to own a pair of Cole Haan Nike Air dress shoes. These are pumps and sandals that have the Nike athletic shoe designer's touch built into them. Cushioned insoles with comfort in mind. Have you ever priced these little (or in my case, big) shoes?  They can run $300-500.  You can see why they're on my bucket list.  I keep checking the Nordstrom Rack, Nordstrom's off-price outlet store for them.  Until I break down and buy the Cadillac of dress shoes, do any of you have suggestions for comfortable non-casual shoes that would meet my criteria?  I would like to look nice, and not have to sacrifice comfort.  Is there anything out there for budget-minded folks like me?

Until I find the perfect little dress shoe to go with the little black dress, I'll be forced to wear what's in my closet.  Help me before the fashion police knock down my door and force me into a pair of stilettos that will have me in tears within minutes!

You Know What They Say about Women Who Wear Big Shoes...

Petite I am not.  Delicate, winsome, lithe, dainty...these adjectives belong to someone else.  I've always seen myself as some sort of Amazon woman.  It doesn't help that most of my friends are so much smaller than I am.  One of the troubling things for me about my body has always been my feet.

There is no getting around it:  I have large feet.  My husband has even gone so far as to put on my shoes, lace them up, and comment that his shoes feel a little snug.  Yeah, I don't buy matching walking shoes any more.  Did you know that you can lose weight and drop a pant size or two, but still have to buy the same size shoe?

When I was in high school, it seemed all of the girls I knew wore smaller sizes of shoes:  5, 6, or maybe a 7.  Did we sit around and discuss sizes of things ad nauseum?  I don't think so, but IN MY MIND, the small conversation we may have had about size was blown out of proportion.  I wanted desperately to blend in with the other girls; I couldn't buy a big honkin' shoe size that could make me the brunt of a joke.  It was 1975, after all.  Sasquatch, the Legend of Big Foot had just been released.  I cringed at the connection.

I remember the Saturday my Dad took me to Best to buy some shoes for our upcoming tennis lessons.  I was probably 14 and I was standing before the Chris Evert display of tennis shoes.  I knew I had to have some white Chris Evert shoes, but what size could I buy?   If I wore the shoes to school, and I would, because an extra pair of shoes couldn't just sit in the closet waiting for Saturday to come; I would be wearing them, someone might notice my big feet.  What if one of the girls, or worse, one of the BOYS asked me what size I wore?  I have never been a liar.  And what fool would lie when a shoe size is imprinted on the shoe. I would have to choose carefully.
Never once did the concept of finding the perfect fit enter my mind.  I needed to find a size that seemed NORMAL.  So I selected a 6, and tried to squeeze my foot into the small opening.  There was no way.  The Prince wouldn't have given me a second chance with that glass slipper.  He'd know he had the wrong girl the moment he saw my feet!  How about a 7?  I struggled, and I managed to get my foot wedged into the shoe.  I laced them up and walked hobbled around the showroom.  There was no salesperson to talk some sense into my stubborn head, and my dad was busy trying to find shoes for my little brothers.  The shoes didn't feel GOOD, but an 8 would sound so big.  I think my mom wore a 9, but she was a grown-up.  I was still a kid.  I would buy the 7.  Maybe they would stretch.  They didn't, and my toes were squished inside those shoes every time I wore them for the next year.

Fast forward a few years.  I'm in college, 2300 miles away from home.  I am sitting on an examination table with my feet exposed to the doctor.  "What you have is a neuroma.  That is a tumor that has built up around your nerves to protect them from the surrounding bones.  Perhaps you've worn shoes that were too tight and your bones were rubbing on your nerves.  Your body produced a cushion to protect the nerves, building the neuroma in layers, much like a pearl grows around a grain of sand in an oyster."  Too-tight shoes, huh?  Maybe that's it...

Guess what size feet I have, really.  Well, you already know not to guess 5, 6, or 7.  Not an 8 or a 9, either.  Before I gave birth to three beautiful babies, I was actually a size 10.  And a WIDE size 10 at that!  After babies, I have always worn an 11.

Since having surgery, I have liberated my feet to only wear shoes that fit.  It has been an extreme pleasure to find places like Nordstrom Rack that have shelves and shelves and shelves of shoes that are made for women like me.  They even carry up to size 15!  Sometimes I made the mistake of buying shoes JUST because my feet went into them without any friction, only to discover at home that they were simply too loose and caused problems of their own.

As a teacher of 5th graders, I made a point of talking about my own experience in front of my whole class.  I realized I could be a role model for these kids.  By sharing my story, they were able to see that it's healthy to be who you are and accept yourself as you are.  We talked about how harmful teasing could be.  Children are smart.  They know numbers are simply numbers.  I don't want them to ever judge themselves by the numbers that identify their size or their weight.  I proudly tell them I'm a size 11.  I've even had a few girls who were my size at that tender age of 10.  I've shared my extra shoes with the girls. I know how hard it is to find shoes larger than a 10.

These days, I'm not camouflaging my foot to blend in to the crowd.  It's all about comfort.  If the shoe fits, buy two...no matter what color.  The wilder, the better, especially when it comes to athletic shoes and hiking shoes.  I've had Nikes that looked like Spider Man shoes.  Blue tie-dyed shoes.  Fluorescent green shoes.  Orange shoes.

I love my feet these days.  I jokingly call myself Sasquatch before anyone else can.  If I beat them to the punchline, we can all laugh together. I still don't want to run the risk of people laughing AT me.   I take care of my feet by finding shoes that fit and feel good.  This summer, I'm sporting Merrell hiking shoes and Merrell sandals.  The hikers are men's shoes.  And I'm okay with that.  I love the way my wide foot can spread out on the cushiony footbed without my toes rubbing on the sides.

My husband and I joke about my love affair with comfy shoes and short hair.  I keep going shorter and shorter every time I see my stylist.  "Ellen DeGeneres is going to be checking me out, Honey.  I don't want you to be jealous."

"She's not stupid.  Of course, she would check you out.  You're so hot, Dee."  He knows just what to say to make me laugh.  And smile.

"You know what they say about women who wear big shoes, don't you?" This is my favorite joke.  "We have big feet."  :D