Shoe shopping

Posted on March 13, 2015 by Sue Vincent

imagesI am sitting here contemplating a toe. It is not a bad toe, as toes go. While it may never win a modelling contract, it would not call down squeamish aversion. Unless, of course, one is averse to toes in general. I know this toe intimately. Know its quirks and its uncanny talent for weather forecasting. I know its history. I am, after all, rather attached to it.

It seems somewhat out of place, even though it is in its accustomed position on the end of my foot. It should not, however, be visible. It should be decently clad. I am, after all, wearing shoes.

A cursory inspection shows I have walked the soles off them again. To be fair, the little ballerina pumps were never designed for rock climbing, tramping the moors or being put through the washing machine umpteen times, but then, what can you do? They’re comfortable. And for less than the price of a brace of fancy coffees I can’t complain.

So, I’m going to need new shoes.

And this is no joke.

My family have long refused to accompany me when I have to go looking for shoes. Mention shoe shopping and my sons melt into the background. As did all former partners after the first abortive foray. The image you need to hold in mind is of a small tempest descending in wrath upon the various shoe-sellers in the area.

I may be the only woman on the planet who hates and detests having to buy new shoes. While I have the shiny stilettoes, the sparkly heels and suede soled dancing slippers… and I love them all, more as works of art than apparel… I seldom wear them. Largely through lack of opportunity, it has to be said, but also because… well, let’s look at this before I commit myself.

I cling to my comfy old pumps because they are just that… old and comfy. They are not smart, barely even attractive, but they actually move with my feet. They are like gloves. The fact that they now have a fair bit of unintentional ventilation too is neither here nor there. If it weren’t for the toe sticking out of the side they would do me a bit longer.

They were also a bargain as you don’t pay tax on children’s shoes.

'Yes, we even have shoe shopping. We just refer to it as 'sole' searching.'
The Creator in His wisdom decided that, being vertically challenged and with a lower centre of gravity than most, I wouldn’t need much to balance upon. Therefore my feet are on the small side. Just at that crossover point between child and woman. Which means style is a little harder to come by. Just to be awkward, my feet stopped growing mid-size… and half sizes are also hard to come by these days unless you have a budget that doesn’t care. So, poised between sizes, with a high instep and slightly wider foot to boot, choosing shoes is a major hassle.

Go for sling backs and me and the shoe don’t match… there is either half an inch of sole or the equivalent amount of foot overhanging. Peep toes? I slide through them. Toe-post sandals? Not unless you want to hear me curse in several languages. And since when have feet been shaped like pointy trowels? Or square? My toes want as much wiggle room as I do. And then they have to put platforms on things.

There was a fabulous pair of sneaker style platform shoes… bright orange suede with black stripes… (look, it was the 70s…). I had just recovered from a broken ankle . Broken, I might add, on the safety buffer of a trampoline, just to add insult to injury. I was on my way back from the hospital, the cast newly removed, both shoes glowing vividly in their designated places. Falling off the platform of the number 77 bus and breaking the ankle again rather put me off platforms altogether.

I did try a pair of low ones a couple of years back… lovely shoes with an internal platform… just a little one. Perfectly safe. Or not, as the case may be… the ankle got its revenge and ‘went’, leaving me in an undignified heap on a Manchester pavement. Never again. I like to feel the floor through my shoes… not because of them.

'I don't have it in your size. Is that a problem?'I have spent most of my working life in heels. This has a lot to do with being vertically challenged. And a certain amount to do with having decent legs. Even if they are short. I was so used to wearing heels there was nothing I couldn’t do in them and in the corporate world legs are counted as an asset worthy of being included on your CV. Particularly in business sales and on building sites.

Heels were exceptionally useful in my van driving days too. The pedals are geared for the larger male foot and the longer male leg… with heels I could actually reach the pedals and keep my foot on the floor. No mean feat, I might add, considering I’d had to have a false floor put in the Mini. For some reason I also used to get a lot of help unloading too…

But it is the shape of shoes that really gets me. I have silently suffered the corns and abrasions, smiled doggedly through blisters while the offending articles were broken in. I had it down to a tee… by the time the first lot had healed the shoes would be good to go. My great grandfather always maintained you should pee in shoes to make them fit… but that not only applied exclusively to the leather shoes of his day, but it also had to be ‘maiden’s water’. Which eventually ceased to be applicable. Not that I ever tried, you understand.

But why, for goodness sake, should we have to squeeze ourselves into containers that are patently not foot shaped? Men’s shoes have at least a passing resemblance to feet. Apart from winklepickers, of course. But women’s shoes…?

one-toeI don’t ask for much, honestly I don’t. Neat, comfortable, attractive… a price that doesn’t need me to mortgage my soul… and a shape that won’t torture the sole. And something that won’t have the medics shaking their heads and sucking their teeth. Not trainers, apparently. Nor for that matter my ballet slippers. Or, in fact, anything else I have worn to appointments. Having said that, I am still refusing to have the bones in my toe fused. I want to be able to choose to wear high heels occasionally. Or not.

I only want a nice pair of shoes. Something feminine that takes into account the fact that I have toes. And that I actually like to walk in them. I can’t be the only woman to return a pair of shoes when the heel fell off only to be told they were not designed to be walked in.

I stopped wearing heels day to day when my son came home from hospital. I needed as much stability as I could get with six foot of son to help navigate the house. Since then I have grown accustomed to being able to go barefoot and vacillate between a pair of warm, slip on boots and the ballerina slippers.

But now they need replacing and we have a problem. The shoe shop in town has closed, leaving me access to the limited range of the supermarket or the fashion stores where neither comfort nor practicality come into the equation.

So if you hear of a small virago being forcibly ejected from Tesco, that’ll be me. Shoe shopping.

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About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent was a Yorkshire born writer, esoteric teacher and a Director of The Silent Eye. She was immersed in the Mysteries all her life. Sue maintained a popular blog and is co-author of The Mystical Hexagram with Dr G.M.Vasey. Sue lived in Buckinghamshire, having been stranded there due to an accident with a blindfold, a pin and a map. She had a lasting love-affair with the landscape of Albion, the hidden country of the heart. Sue  passed into spirit at the end of March 2021.
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42 Responses to Shoe shopping

  1. Marilyn Armstrong's avatar Marilyn Armstrong says:
    March 13, 2015 at 04:14

    Taking my son shoe shopping when he was a young man with size 14EEE feet was such an awful experience, I have never wanted to shop for shoes for anyone since. I order the same basic style shoes from the same manufacturers. It is the one size on my body that has never changed, so I know exactly what will fit. As long as Clarke’s, Ugg, and Birkenstock exist, I’m safe! Good luck!

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  2. Daleen's avatar Daleen says:
    March 13, 2015 at 05:55

    Oh dear! I loathe shoe shopping. I agree, it would be helpful if they were actually foot-shaped. I hope you manage to find something to your liking and that it does not consume an entire day in the process

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  3. Susan Scott's avatar Susan Scott says:
    March 13, 2015 at 06:35

    Skechers Walk shoes are heaven Sue … fashionable enough to be worn with smarter clothes, and bliss for ordinary every day wear. Light as a feather etc and not outlandish in terms of cost. Good luck.

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  5. Richard Ankers's avatar Richard Ankers says:
    March 13, 2015 at 08:05

    I’m a vertically challenged shoe shop hating person too, so you’re in good company, I think! LOL

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  6. Mary Smith's avatar Mary Smith says:
    March 13, 2015 at 09:17

    My feet are a size 6, very broad with a high arch and I loathe shopping for shoes. In fact I’m beginning to think a women’s love of shopping for shoes is a myth. I always mean to buy two pairs the same so when one wears out I don’t have the hassle of finding new shoes – trouble is, in the shop I don’t really know if I’m ever going to ‘wear them in’ successfully – by the time I have, those shoes are no longer in stock.

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  7. Jaye Marie & Anita Dawes's avatar jenanita01 says:
    March 13, 2015 at 09:49

    Oh boy, do I know where you are coming from. Jaye could be a clone of you, at least in the shoe department. I won’t go shoe shopping with her anymore, rather stick pins in her eyes. And yes, she does go barefoot most of the time…

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  8. amreade's avatar amreade says:
    March 13, 2015 at 12:06

    Truer words were never spoken. I had a pair of pumps I bought in 1994 and the heel finally broke last Sunday. It was a sad occasion. I may never find that pair’s equal. I bought a pair of pointy-toe shoes once at an estate sale because they were designer and were only $3. And they fit (more or less). Now I only wear them when I don’t have to walk far to get where I’m going and I’ll be seated when I get there so I can take them off under the table. Worst $3 I ever spent.

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  9. KL Caley's avatar KL Caley says:
    March 13, 2015 at 13:40

    Haha – this is amazing Sue – it had me giggling the whole way through. Sent on to a friend who also “suffers” from ridiculously tiny feet. I put suffer in quotation as she regularly gets to parade in some lovely shoes that she’s got at a bargain because she found them in the kids section – lucky thing! Lol

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  10. alibaliwalker's avatar Ali Isaac says:
    March 13, 2015 at 14:09

    I love Fitflop shoes but they are so expensive. This winter I have lived in my balance shoes… they’re ugly, but the only shoes with a thick enough sole to prevent chilblains, which I suffer with terribly in the winter these days… think its an ‘age’ thing!

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  11. stockdalewolfe's avatar stockdalewolfe says:
    March 13, 2015 at 16:06

    Yes, shoe shopping is the pits!

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  12. caoimhelionheart's avatar caoimhelionheart says:
    March 13, 2015 at 16:38

    me either!! Even in my Second Life most of my pics are from the knees up because I am barefooted 😀

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  13. Noah Weiss's avatar Noah Weiss says:
    March 13, 2015 at 18:02

    Being in that limbo size between child and adult is very awkward. Even now, I have a hard time finding clothes that fit, especially pants.

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  14. noelleg44's avatar noelleg44 says:
    March 13, 2015 at 21:51

    Those pointy needle heel shoes are designed by men, who get to wear comfortable shoes all the time! I suffer from the opposite – big feet. I can find shoes in an 11 or a 12 but unfortunately I am an 11 1/2; no one makes an 11 1/2. I buy by shoes from catalogs, since none of the shoe stores around here carry anything larger than 10. Just have to put up with paying the shipping, and return, too. You might look at Aerosoles, Clark’s, and Easy Spirit. Boy, do I sympathize with you!

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  15. Eliza Waters's avatar Eliza Waters says:
    March 14, 2015 at 00:59

    I expect this is a universal problem – why can’t they make decent shoes that actually fit human feet? I feel the same way about clothes shopping, too. So hard to find something that fits and looks well, too. Near to impossible! Needless to say, I rarely shop and only when I must! No Zappos in the UK?

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