The Shoe Shame

Viktor & Rolf booties

In the past recent months I went on a designer shoe shopping extravaganza. Viktor & Rolf, Jason Wu, and Miista brogues. While the amount of money spent will remain concealed, the aftermath is certainly worth a share. I’m sure it will speak volumes to tell you that I’ve worn each pair less than 3 times. 
I am not wealthy by any means - I do however, pride myself on my ability to save. My boyfriend often refers to me as a little winter mouse: able to stash away my savings, and cashing in when the moment strikes. I will scale back on impulse purchases (which tend to be rare anyway), and set aside a devoted amount every month in anticipation for the moment I come across that “must have” item.

Escada heels

I have learned to plan ahead when it comes to fashion. A painful lesson was learned a few years ago with a pair of beautiful Miu Miu platforms. I immediately fell in love with the print and design, and set to saving for them: once I had the money (tax included!) they were sold out across the globe. I was heartbroken. So now, I save. 
If only the labor was worth the end reward. None of my designer shoes allow me to strut the way I long to. Blood, sweat and tears is usually my end result - that and an unmistakable limp just after an hour to two of wear (and for one pair, 15 minutes). Of course the physical anguish is nothing compared to the mental anguish. The embarrassment that comes from spending such a high amount on a pair of shoes that turned out to be nothing more than a fancy set of instrumental torture is a heavy weight to bear. 
The pangs of both joy and guilt I feel when a little 5 year old girl stops me mid-stride to admire my shoes is one that confuses me the most. I feel joy when I offer a young girl the chance to wear my shoes (the look on her face!) is humbling. I love that how at such a young age I know that she is truly admiring them because of their aesthetic - not the shoe’s label. Yet at the same time I feel guilty because I fear I might have planted a seed that will cause her too to reach for shoes like mine later in her life. 

Alexander Wang boots

Is there any way out? The painful “breaking in” period for a pair of shoes can be frustrating indeed - but what if the shoe ends up breaking me? I am proud of the shoe collection I have built over the years - but an embarrassing percentage of the curation now seems to be for display only. In an industry where women’s footwear makes $20 billion annually in the US alone, I know that I cannot be the only one suffering from this! 
Women buy shoes for a variety of reasons: but I feel confident in saying that necessity is the last on the list. In 2007-2008 in the very heart of the American housing crisis and the Great Recession, shoe sales actually jumped and broke records of the previous 14 years (source). Is it possible that every other gal out there is collecting glamorous shoes much like I am, and keeping them for display only? Who is walking in these shoes? Or perhaps the better question is, why do we keep purchasing them? 

Kate Spade heels

There is a sense of empowerment that I get while walking in a tall, well sculpted pair of heels. The “inner smirk” that I feel once I hit my long stride while walking in them is one that I relish. There is a sense of pride - though it may be misplaced - of saying that a 6 inch shoe is really “no trouble at all” to walk in. There is also a sense of pride in knowing that I saved up, sacrificed and labored for an item that I truly wanted. My pair of shoes  no longer simply represents a designer label, or item of personal choice, but it also displays my self control in other areas of life: I can control my spending for a greater goal, and I can control mind over matter - yes my feet may be in pain, but I can still smile and carry a conversation as well.
At the end of the day when I remove my heels, I can’t help but wonder who is really wearing who: I the shoe, or the shoe me? Will I stop the cycle of saving for, and purchasing beautiful shoes? Probably not. If anything I will most likely spend more time in the Walgreen’s and Target isles searching for that magic insert/adhesive/cushion to make my shoe somewhat bearable. So perhaps the word “shame” is too strong. But then again “I’m in so much pain my hands have broken out into a cold sweat and my heart is racing because of it, but damn these shoes are gorgeous, aren’t they?” Was too long for a title.
“A woman can carry a bag, but it is the shoe that carries the woman.” – Christian Louboutin
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