House of Swank

It's Not So Crazy After All

There are people who will tease a girl about her obsession with shoes, and the sheer number of shoes she desires to have in her closet.  And to those people I say PSHAW!  Because my shoe obsession turned into a very, very good thing yesterday.

It seems Sweetie is suffering from tendinitis of the posterior tibialis tendon which means he's in a boot for the next 4-6 weeks.

The thing about the boots is that the sole of the boot is a bit thicker than the sole of your standard shoe.  So while you're treating the issues with your ankles you can also be causing hip problems as you walk off balance.  The doctor mentioned he should get some shoes with a higher sole to help compensate.  That's where I came in.

So, we needed shoes with a thick sole.  They either had to be so cheap that we could justify him wearing one of them for 4-6 weeks and then kicking them to the curb, or attractive enough that he might wear them once he had use of both feet.

The doctor suggested Danskos- he was on the phone with her at the time, and I was standing right in front of him - he repeated the suggestion out loud so that I could interpret, and I just pointed down to my feet.  They would solve the problem at hand, but I knew they wouldn't pass the cheap test, and doubted we could find a pair to pass the attractive test.  Especially with limited time available.

My first thought had been Dr. Martens air cushion soles, but I was open to suggestions from the experts.  So we started our escapades at Nordstrom, and confirmed my suspicions.  Sweetie also tried on a pair of eccos and a pair of Clarks, but it was quickly determined that the Docs were the best sole for the job at hand.  Now it was simply a matter of finding a pair that met Sweeties fashion standards. 

I started out hopeful.  I figured the bright yellow stitching attaching the upper to the sole was the issue, and knew we could find something with a more subdued look.  Worst case we'd go to the Dr. Martens store the next day.  However, the issue was not the stitching, it was the color of the "snot-yellow color" of the sole. 

Now we were in a quandary.  I could easily find him Docs without the standard sole.  Heck, Portland has a Dr. Martens retail store, so I knew we could find ourselves in Doc mecca if we had to.  But the air ware sole was the reason he wanted the Docs in the first place.

Compound that with the fact that Sweetie has a large foot and the Sweetie has made it to the Dr. Martens party about 15 years too late and that further limited our options.  Luckily, we found a pair that meet all the necessary requirements.

The thing that made me chuckle throughout the whole process is that prior to last night Sweetie was unaware there existed a brand of shoes known as "Dr. Martens."  We'll turn him into a cool kid yet.  Even if it is a cool kid from 15 years ago.

My Theme Song

Everyone needs a theme song, and now I have one.

I'd heard it on the radio before, and thought it was catchy, but never caught on to the title or lyrics.  And never would have noticed that it even (indirectly) refers to Tuesday Shoesday.

Thanks to the person at work today who drew my attention to this song.  All because I was wearing my patent leather Danskos, and we got into a discussion on what a shoe whore I am.

Blistering!

I got my first pair of Nikes in 1982.  It would have been 1981, but Mom refused to buy me a pair until my feet stopped growing.  Back in the day, at least in Portland, Nikes were the expensive alternative to Chucks.  As in, it was all about the color and the style, and not so much about the comfort or the wanting to work out.  At least among the grade school set.

Because of the wait in being allowed a pair, there was a lot of time spent pondering just what pair I wanted.  What color combination?  What toe style?  Did I go for a style that was popular with the other kids, or strike out on my own?  Everytime we would go to Beaverton Mall I would make my way to G.I. Joe's and peruse the wall o' Nikes.

The pair I ended up with was a tone-on-tone lavendar with a purple swoosh.  It was what I considered the traditional toe variety:

Rather than the alternate "snub toe" variety:

At the time I didn't like the snub toe variety much at all.

I only speak of these Nikes, because they are the last pair of Nike tennis shoes that I have owned which have wholly satisfied me.  They don't fit me right to actually engage in physical activity while wearing them, and tend to give me blisters.  Didn't stop me from wearing them through junior high and high school, because when you grow up just a few miles from the world headquarters you tend to lean that way in shoe-preferences.

But once I discovered that athletic shoes could be comfortable I was a convert.  And didn't buy Nikes for many, many years.

Then I moved to the Tri-Cities.  And for further proof on how whacked out a place that is, I bought myself a pair of Nikes.

The previous shoes had been worn to pieces.  One of the fringe benefits of working for the baseball team was a free gym membership.  So I decided to drop some money on some new shoes.  Went to the Foot Locker at the mall, were drawn to these because they were cute (and, if memory serves, on sale), fully expecting them not to work out as a shoe goes.  But they seemed comfortable enough, so I bought them.

I guess they did last me 4 years, which is really good for a pair of tennis shoes, but I still resent them for the pain they caused me.

It was during the job-search last year.  I had gone to the gym first thing in the morning, and had a series of errands I was going to run on my way home, which would allow me to find my dream job that afternoon.  I was walking on the treadmill.  And the pain.  OH THE PAIN!

It hurt getting off the treadmill.  It hurt walking downstairs.  It hurt walking out to my car.  The blisters hurt so bad that I stopped at Old Navy to buy a pair of super-cheap shoes to wear while running my errands, which included buying a new pair of shoes to replace the Nikes.

I've held onto them since then as back-up shoes.  Like if I was going to do something that needed ratty old tennis shoes.  Then my other shoes took over that role, so these have just been awaiting their moment of internet fame, and they shall be off to Goodwill promptly.

Oh Yeah, Shoes

I'd offer up an explanation as to why it's been so long for me to get back in the grove on Tuesday Shoesday, but this post will be long enough as it is.  And I think the entry will make up for the time lost.

The year was 1999.  My 10-year high school reunion was imminent.

When I first got the invite I wavered on whether or not I would attend.  That was a lot of money to spend for dinner, and I really didn't like most of the people I went to high school with. 

But there were a couple of friends that would be attending that I was interested in catching up with.  They were coming from across the country, and had enough family here I knew that the reunion was the only shot to get their attention.  And it would be a good excuse to treat myself to some nice new clothes and some pampering.  It was the open bar that pushed me over the edge.

Not that I'm a lush, but damn if I didn't need a little social lubrication to face that crowd again.  Even before I knew that the friend from junior high who went on to become the high school slut (Spread 'em Pike) had gone on to become a romance writer.  Which wouldn't necessarily be too bad until you learn that her upcoming release will be available exclusively at Wal-Mart.  And you learn this fact because she had business cards printed to distribute and inform you of the fact.  Even when at my best I need a couple of drinks in me to reach the level of snark necessary for that sort of situation.

So I had to go get some new threads.  I drug my roommate, kaphine, along and she somehow got our pseudo-roommate*, Scott, to tag along for fun.  Not sure how or why she made that happen, but the three of us set off for Nordstrom's at Clackamas Town Center.  Scott had obviously been forced to watch a few too many chick shows at the House of Swank, as he played the part perfectly on the expedition - pulling a dress of the rack, "Oh, you should try this one on.  The lines would be really good on you."  In deadpan, emotionless voice.

Although not a pauper at this stage of my life, there were definitely budgets to be followed.  And to keep within the budget I opted to go simple (read: cheap) on the dress, that I likely wouldn't get much use of after the fact, and instead splurge on accessories and shoes, which can last a girl for a lifetime.  So I found a simple knit dress, and a lovely scarf, and set off in search of the shoes.

I picked out a pair of shoes that evening, but on further consideration decided they weren't the right fit.  The shoes I selected did have a daunting task in front of them, beyond just being super cute.  Because remember, the event had an open bar.  So the plan was that I would drive myself the reunion that night and park at a meter on the street (free after 6 pm on Saturday and all day on Sunday).  Then I'd take advantage of Portland's fine public transportation system to get my home.  That way I only had to stay sober enough to navigate my way home via bus, and could retrieve my car the next day.  Home at the time was 9 blocks away from the bus stop, so I needed shoes that would be comfortable all night (a hefty-enough task to ask of a heel), but that would continue to be comfortable enough for a 13 block walk late at night (4 blocks to the bus stop at the reunion end of the ride, 9 blocks home).

I found them at the Nordstrom's at Washington Square, which is one of my shoe meccas in Portland.

They lucked out and never had to take the "can she walk home at the end of the night" test, as at the reunion a non-drinking friend offered me a ride home at the end of the night.  That meant I only had to stay sober enough to remember where I lived. 

In other words, the night was a resounding success.

The shoes have continued to be a resounding success in my life.  I pull them out anytime I've got a dressy occasion to attend.

And when TRP and I got married last year, these are the shoes that I wore.  Because as much of a shoe whore as I might be I couldn't get behind dropping a chunk of change on a pair of fancy white shoes that I would never, ever in my life wear again.  It must have been fate, as the shoes were the perfect height such that I did not have to have my wedding dress hemmed.  Total cost of bridal alterations:  $9.

And the shoes must have been studying up, as they were definitely put to the test that day.  I put them on around 2:30 and did not take them off until after midnight.  I barely sat down during that time, too.  It wasn't until the big festivities were over and we were out on the curb waiting for our town car that my feet started to feel the pain.  And I think I could have been wearing the most comfortable shoes ever and my feet would have hurt at that point in time.

So, all in all, I'd call these shoes winners.

* pseudo-roommate = friend who is living with his parents, so you give him a key to the apartment and an open invitation, and in return he'll keep an eye on the cat when you're out of town, mix you a cocktail any time you ask, help intermediate when the manager of the apartment is doing jack-shit about the carpenter ant infestation, and use the fact that he's a reserve officer for the local sheriff's office to your advantage when stupid people are setting off bottle rockets next to your car on the 4th of July.  Pseudo-roommates are awesome, and every twenty-something girl living the single life should have one if she can manage it.

Moving out of the Regular Roundup

You may not be able to tell, but these are my current cross-trainers, sitting inside of a plastic bag.  To the untrained eye it probably looks like a plastic bag full of mud, but I promise you there are shoes in there.

As much as I love shoes, cross-trainers are always a purchase out of need rather than desire.  I was at the gym one morning last fall working out and developed THE MOST PAINFUL BLISTER EVER on the back of my right heel.  I stopped my workout early, and was almost in tears trying to walk out of the gym in the offending shoes.  There was no other choice but to go shopping for new shoes immediately.  Because if I procrastinated, then I'd just put off working out, on the excuse that I had no shoes to wear.

I stopped at Old Navy on the way to the mall, to buy a cheap pair of shoes to make the pain stop, but those are shoes for another day.  These are the second pair of shoes I bought that day, so that I could still have shoes to work out in.

Sunday Sweetie and I went for a beautiful hike on Sunday, in preparation for our summer vacation.  We came across a mother deer and her doe.  We walked over 5 miles, and gained something like 600 feet of elevation in less than a mile.  It was a beautiful day in the forest.

But the sun doesn't penetrate into the forest much.  Especially when you live in the Pacific Northwest.  So there's a lot of mud along the trail.  And the person in front (that would be me) gets to try to guess the best way through the mud to cause the least amount of damage.  Didn't always work so well.  Sweetie exited the day with a bit of mud on his shoes.  I ended up with mud encased feet.  I lost the back half of my shoe in one puddle, it really was quite gross.

So once the muddy shoes get cleaned up they'll get moved to back-up cross-trainer duty, and sometime this week I'll be off to buy a new pair of shoes to replace them.

Wear Purple Tomorrow

Tomorrow, June 15, is the first annual Elder Abuse Awareness day, sponsored by the International Network for the Prevention of Elder Abuse. You are encouraged to show the world you care about ending elder abuse and neglect by wearing something purple tomorrow.

So do I wear the purple Hush Puppy mules or the purple Doc Marten boots?  Your vote counts!

Cheating the System

I own boys shoes. 

Not men's shoes.  Well, OK, I do own some men's shoes, and some shoes of ambiguous sexuality, but I mean boys shoes.  Shoes I bought in the children's department.  At the age of 22.

Here's a secret:  A woman's size 8 is equivalent to a men's size 6.  Which is the largest size shoe they generally stock in the children's department for the young boys.  And, at Nordstrom's, they price the saltwater sandals in the children's section lower than they do the sandals in the women's shoes section.  Or at least they did in the mid-90's.  So by buying my shoes in the boy's department instead of the women's department I was able to save myself a few bucks.

There were a lot of years of my life I wouldn't be caught dead in Saltwater Sandals.  But around 1987 Esprit came out with a pair that had textured leather, which I purchased and subsequently lived in.  They were comfortable, cute and easier to walk in than flip flops.  After I wore them to death I bought the current, tan, official Saltwater Sandals.

I can't wear them as much as I used to.  In reflecting on my past shoes and current preferences I realize that when I was in high school I didn't require support in my shoes.  I lived in saltwater sandals and oriental slippers (still to come).  If I tried to do that today my feet would turn into two giant blisters, and I would be couch-ridden from the pain.

But these are still cute and nice to wear every once in a while.

Two Buck Chuck

Apologies for missing Tuesday Shoesday last week.  I honestly meant to make up for it later in the week, but then got hit by a virus, so instead shall make amends today with two pairs for the price of one.

My first pair of Chuck Taylors was a pair of red high tops that I got while in high school.  I didn't wear them near as often as I thought I would, because high tops are not the most versatile of shoes because they need to be worn with long pants to really look right.  At least on me.  At some point I fixed the situation by converting the high tops into low tops, by simply cutting off the top part.  Worked well for the grunge college student look.

I've got two pairs of Chuck's now.  The high tops are a patchwork of colors that I got sometime either late college or early on in the post-college years.  I already knew I wasn't a fan of the Converse High Top, so I'm not 100% sure what compelled me to buy them.  I did have a patchwork rugby shirt at the time that matched the shoes perfectly, but in those days I don't see myself buying a pair of shoes to match one specific shirt.  Especially a shirt I found perfectly functional but was by no means a favorite.  But, I've got the high tops now, and do occasionally pull them out.

The low tops are a more recent purchase.  I can't remember if they were a formal Tuesday Shoesday acquisition, or I just felt the need for a fun new pair of Converse.  I do know that I bought them at the Bon Marche in Bellevue Square, after scanning through all the other places that sold Chuck's to make sure there wasn't a better color out there.  I do quite adore the color of these, a light mint green with pink trim on the soles.

And with Chuck's it is all about the color.  Want to know a secret?  I'm not a huge fan of the Chuck Taylor.  I find Jack Purcell's much cuter AND more comfortable.  But they don't come in the colors, and OH how I love the colors!!!  They do, however, come in suede.  That is a pair for another day.

And Now A Word From Our Sponsors

We regret to inform you that, due to cirucmstances beyond our control, Swankette was unable to accomplish anything this evening that might merit a blog post.

If you stoppped by because it's Tuesday and you were in search of some tres fabu shoes, please come back tomorrow.  We'll be featuring the party shoes, to thank you for your patience on this matter.

If you stopped by wanting to know whatever became of the hole in the ceiling, we can let you know that it is no longer a hole, but is not quite a ceiling fan.  It should complete its metamorphosis tonight, and be ready for an unveiling tomorrow.  Or maybe Thursday. 

Thank you for your patience,

The Management.

Gee, Toto, We're Not In Kansas Anymore

They're shiny red shoes.  I should have seen it coming.  But the first time a colleague referred to me as "Dorothy" it took me a minute to figure out what the hell he was thinking about.  But then I've gotten it.  And now I can't remember how many times people have made the joke. 

But seriously, I did not make the connection to ruby red slippers until that moment.

I bought them February 23, 2004 in honor of my dad's 70th birthday.  OK, not in honor of, but ON his 70th birthday.  Didn't make that connection until today.  I don't normally record the dates I buy new shoes, but I started my first blog the next day. 

The weekend before my Sweetie and I had gone out to dinner at Atlas Foods, and while walking to the restaurant I noticed some cute shoes in the window of a storefront there.  But they were orange, which is not really a color that is part of my palette.

Fast forward to Monday and there is a total hell day at work.  Before I left the office that day I needed to go shoe shopping.  And the shoes I had seen that previous weekend were stuck in my brain.  (Or maybe it was one week previous, because I know I went to Portland at some point around then for my Dad's surprise 70th birthday party, but we'll just pretend it was that weekend because the exact date of dinner at Atlas foods is not important).  I wanted those shoes, just not in orange.  I called the store to see if other colors were available, but they only had orange and black.  DAMN!

As I left work that day I remember saying to my co-workers, "Gosh, if only they had those shoes in red or purple, I would TOTALLY buy them!"  Do you see where this story was going?

So I headed off to Northgate Mall, which is not the closest mall to where I live, but at the time was the mall with the best shoe selection close to where I live.  Yes, there is a difference.  (Since then I believe Alderwood Mall has surpassed it, for those in the Seattle area who may be looking for where to go buy some shoes.  I do not recommend Bellevue Square.  The shoes just aren't as cute there on the whole).  So I'm at Northgate Mall.  At Nordstroms.  Running laps around the shoe section, willing the shoes of my dreams to appear.  And then they do!

They're red, patent leather, and at least a close match to the shoes I was lusting after (came later to learn they are the exact same shoe).  All for the bargain basement price of $200.  EEK!  The most I had ever spent for a pair of shoes before was $120, and that was painful.  $80 was normally a splurge.  But what could it hurt to try them on?

Not only are the red and patent leather, but they are ITALIAN leather.  Oh me oh my.  I had heard about Italian leather shoes before, but I could not imagine the comfort until I tried them on.

I probably stood in front of the mirror a good 15 minutes.  Staring.  Lifting my pant legs up and lowering them down.  Trying to work the numbers in my mind and justify the expense.  After about 5 minutes my darling Nordstrom's sales person came over to try and earn his comission, explaining the beauty of the Italian leather and who knows what else.  I do remember turning to him and saying, "You know what, this is unnecessary.  I'm probably going to buy it, I just need to talk myself into it."

And, of course, I did.  I did not realize how versatile a pair of red, patent leather shoes could be in my wardrobe, but when most of your clothes are black and khaki, red shoes go just swimmingly.

Now excuse me while I head down the yellow brick road.