The Lament of the Country Girl

Ah, my poor shoes.  This is not the first time I’ve contemplated my shoes lined up in their boxes not getting used: for I am a Country Girl who loves shoes.  Why did I have to be cursed with conflicting loves: shoes and country life?  The two do not mix.  Beautiful shoes are meant to be worn, not reside in boxes awaiting that special dinner a few times a year, even then they’re impractical and all take note.

I see all the hideous shoes of my loved ones and neighbours and they have the audacity to remark on MY footwear?  At least I am not running around in shoes made of recycled six pack rings, but where I’m from recycling and sustainability are revered.  To be honest that is the only thing I like about Crocs.  Something needs to be using up all that plastic crap, unfortunately the shoes look like just that.  Plastic crap.

I wear my poor beautiful shoes as often as I can, but it just isn’t enough, things of beauty should be shared: I don’t even have clear shoe boxes.  Through my distinct lack of space I cannot even admire my wonderful collection easily.  My heart aches for the unworn works of art while I run around in my sneakers. 

Practical, practical, practical.  That’s all I ever hear, my parents, my boyfriend, everyone.  That’s all well and good, but why does practical have to be ugly.  Besides, I have practical, I have two pairs of boots that don’t have heels, although I must admit, they’re both suede.  I wear them when I can, but again, even my practical shoes can’t really be worn all that often, for fear of water damage.

So, I am a sneaker girl, dreaming of her stilettos, pumps and mules.