pretty shoes
I met a woman at a wedding.
I did not know many people. So I drifted. And ended up where I usually end up at events where I know no one — which is either talking to the help or talking to someone’s older relative.
This time it was someone’s older relative. She was the groom’s grandmother. She had been a ballerina once. She was much older now.
She told me what she missed most was pretty shoes. She said she could not wear pretty shoes any more now she had to wear what she could find, which was old people shoes, which were mostly ugly.
She liked my shoes. She showed me hers.
Her shoes were covered in some kind of goldy fabric — but they were wide, mishappen, overly reinforced ugly old people shoes just disguised as ladies’ sandals. Made by someone who I guess thought when you got old you stopped caring whether your shoes were pretty.
I wear a lot of pretty shoes. For me. And for the ballerina.
where the art work comes from :
that is one half of irreverence by chaofsky
20 Responses to pretty shoes
As a man, I don’t wear “pretty shoes” but I do wear shoes I love – and I love going with my women frieds to shop for shoes for a special occasion.
A simple change into nice shoes completely changes not only one’s clothes but one’s whole attitude and feeling.
I can face anything the world throws at me…in the right shoes.
I think I would wear pretty shoes also but I hate to shop. I want Prince Charming to kneel at my feet with the pretty shoes already chosen especially for me. Now that would be love.
Mail order.
Sadly, my innner lesbo shows up when I shoe shop.
“Inner lesbo”?
You crack me up.
Very beautiful post, Max.
Sad but oddly comforting. In my sunset years, I hope that someone wears pretty shoes for me. Or even goes to church all breezy under her skirt for me.
A quiet consolation.
Kisses
Thanks, Janie.
You’re welcome.
Some artistic photos I found, some of which are just amazing, and I thought you’d enjoy.
Kisses
Thanks you. I am especially liking this one:
http://flickr.com/photos/tetheredto/425428257/
There’s something about this one that moves me:
http://flickr.com/photos/tetheredto/457627453/
This one tickles me:
http://flickr.com/photos/tetheredto/434108533/
You are just frisky over two girls without pants in a window. [wink]
;)
max i love this piece.
Thanks, Blete.
You can wear nice shoes for me too, Max. All I seem to be able to do is wear dammed uncomfortable shoes.
I tried putting sticking plasters on before the fact this time. But I put the plasters on the wrong bit.
Ow.
Owowowowow.
And they aren’t even pretty. I’m channelling Jennifer’s inner lesbo too.
Are sticking plasters band-aids?
Yup.
Well there is a trick to that. You put the band-aids on before you leave the house. Then, you put the shoes on, and test the spot.
I have a pair or shoes like this. I love the shoes. But they were not designed for high arches and if I do not get the band-aids in the right spot before leaving the house? It will be hell to pay when I put them on after leaving the house.
Yes that would have been the thing to do. And I thought I was doing so well too.
Although the other problem is that when I did finally put the band aids on, the shoes rubbed them right off again. I really buy splendidly torturous shoes.
Shoes rubbing hard enough to take band-aids off are shoes that need to be retired.