My plastic shoes

Courtesy of TheOnlyAnlya via Flickr.

I’ve been making fashion choices for myself since the age of four. I’ve partaken in trends — some good and some bad.  Everything from stirrup pants to bib overalls to my personal favorite- the jelly shoe.

Even at a young age, I seemed to understand that pain was beauty. I still remember the blisters and the tiny red imprints they left in my foot. Rocks found their way into the tiny holes on the playground, my pinky toe often slipped out of the sides and the most memorable of all — once,  my father accidentally slammed my jellied foot in the car door.

The not-so-functional plastic slip-ons had a shelf life of about two and a half weeks before they cracked and split in half. After a while, I swore off plastic shoes forever. Those were the days.

Fast forward 18 years. I’m barefoot in a shoe store staring at a pair of bright, shiny, plastic blue shoes.

I quickly slipped them on and walked around, casually glancing into each mirror I passed and admiring the shoes.

Courtesy of Carlo Nicora via Flickr.

Were they ugly? Were they cute? I couldn’t tell, but they were totally unlike my usual purchases.

“Get the shoes,” said my best friend and best mirror, “you need something to throw on when you want to splash around in puddles.”

Well, that would be a great excuse if I was five years old.

“Really? You think so? They aren’t hideous?”  They had a way of looking so ugly they were cute. Kind of like a pug.

“Yeah! You need to buy them, they’re not taking no for an answer.”  She could help me sign any receipt.

I quickly swiped my credit card before I could change my mind and put the shoes on (it was a rainy day, after all).

My new blue shoes.

I pranced into the mall with my snazzy new shoes and a sassy new attitude. It felt good to be back in plastic.  All of a sudden my feet were a novelty again.

“Great shoes! Where did you get them?” asked the sales lady at Banana Republic.

“They were 30 percent off and there’s only one more pair left!” I screeched giddily.

I had fallen in love.

The day went on and those little plastic shoes seemed to be the topic of conversation.

You may think I’m crazy, but it would appear that my passion for plastic shoes has returned. I think that everyone can appreciate brightly colored footwear, and I encourage everyone to get a pair plastic shoes — if for nothing else, than prance around like a five-year-old in the puddles.

Cheers!