Practical shoes
Monday, August 18, 2008 Mother and Dad arrived Saturday from Arizona. It's been a nice visit. Dad and I had a beautiful mountain bike ride, we all walked to Snoasis for shaved ice [where we waited in line with the other addicts patrons], and Mother and I were able to have a mother-daughter shopping day.
Mom is the best shopping companion I've ever had. I mean that sincerely. We appreciate each other's taste and can give honest, meaningful feedback on potential purchases, yet we're comfortable parting ways to investigate individual interests, always returning to a predetermined rendezvous site.
We both love a leisurely lunch with good food and wine, or on occasion, recognize it's best to quickly consume a giant cookie and a Coke so we can hit all the targeted stores before day's end. She makes me laugh when she sees the gals with their thong underwear showing above their ultra-low-rise jeans, her eyebrows raised as she whispers, "I see London, I see France..."
Yesterday we shopped. As I was in the shower preparing myself for shopping day, Mom poked her head in, "What are you wearing?" We always quasi-coordinate. "Something cute," I said.
I decided to wear jeans, and a black cami with a short-sleeved, black sweater. I also decided to wear some Steve Madden, high heel shoes that I've never worn. They're a tad out of my league and comfort zone, but very fun. Mom says, "Are you really wearing those shoes." I said, "Yes, why?" "Honey, you're gonna kill yourself. You better bring a second pair incase your feet hurt." I thought about it and decided I'd throw an extra pair of shoes in the back seat of the car. But, I'd probably be fine.
We hit a small country called IKEA first. My feet didn't hurt, but I noticed I was fiddling with my shoes occasionally. Not cool, but I was proud of the discreet way I handled it. I was lookin' good in my high heels. We drove to a few more stores, paced and positioned so that I could walk short distances, and recover in the car as we traveled to the next location. I was managing, but fading.
Within one specific moment, in Restoration Hardware, fiddling and irritation became intense pain on the balls of my feet, and my lower back spasmed a bit. It was time to change into the 2nd string shoes, which were still cute but a bit orthopedic looking. Had I not had the 2nd string shoes, I would have purchased ANY shoe at ANY price... or gone home.
Mom: "How do your feet feel? You're walking with a perceptible limp."
Me: "Terrible. You were right. I'll be back in a minute."
Mom and I decided it was a leisurely lunch, shopping day and she was giving me the "I told you so..." speech. I said, "Mom, I was just trying to be like all the other girls." Mom said, "I know Dear. I try too, and it never quite works. Have a Mojito. You'll feel better."
So I did. And I do.
Reader Comments (11)
You crack me up. Truly, this is a great story. Last year I too felt the fashion peer pressure. After a couple of hours at my son's school to volunteer I found that my attire (capris, t-shirt and flip-flops) was woefully inadequate. The other moms were in ridiculously high heels, designer jeans and fancy blouses. So I head off to the mall to purchase my own pair of trendy high heeled boots. They made it through exactly one, mostly seated, volunteer session at school, but the kiss of death was shopping with my mom. I made it through half of the first store before limping pathetically to the car and insisting that we go home for a change of shoes. I was going to donate them to charity, but can't bring myself to have any part in inflicting pain on an unsuspecting victim:)
I don't even bother with the heels, my husband is barely an inch taller than me and he doesn't like to be looked down upon.
I don't shop with my Mom. The last time I did....I was looking for dark wash trouser jeans and she brought me MOM jeans (in a light acid wash) to try on. UGH!
Connie - Acid wash mom jeans? Poor bunny... Maybe your Mother needs a Mojito.
The green, strappy, sensible (alright, not completely sensible but my jeans were stupid long) shoes were Dansko's. They're actually comfortable for a sandal with a heal. If you butched up a bit, you could wear 'em... ;)
I understand the thong confusion - why I specified "thong underwear" in my post. For my mother, her friends and a few of mine, who know thongs only as shoes. I'm with ya.
Thanks so much for visiting Joe Girl! I am so hooked on, and inspired by, Dooce. Heather is brilliant.
Love your writing style! As for the shoes... I'm trying to 'step' out of my comfort zone too, but I would be too stubborn to bring the back-up pair. Miserable, I would have limped all the way back to the car (ankles bleeding I'm sure), taken the damn things off, and whimpered home in sorrow.
Just found your blog - I'll add it to my reader!
It's great that you have such a compatible shopping companion in your Mom.