Lovely, Horrible Shoes

I was so excited when I spied these slip-on shoes on the website of one of my favorite retailers recently.

Lovely Horrible Shoes

SO EXCITED, in fact, that I bought not one but two pairs. One in black. One in beige.

They are Italian made, fancy without being fussy, with the perfect heel. I was set for the summer.

Then the shoes arrived. They looked EVEN BETTER in person. Should I have bought more pairs to be set for ALL summers of the rest of my life?

Today, I wore these beautiful shoes on a short walk to the office. After a block of walking, I wanted to scream because the top and bottom edge of the top piece were trying to slice my toe and foot in half. Or thirds, is it?

May be I have boney feet. May be my feet have changed with age. May be the sidewalk today is a bit off. I made every excuse possible because THESE SHOES looked too good to be blamed.

Alas, I left the office early and walked barefoot for part of the walk to get home and do a switch-a-roo. No. No. No.

Or may be I should be saying Why. Why. Why.

Bought on final sale, I can’t return them. Now, my plan is to get some kind of padding that I can glue to the inside top without compromising the look. Or may be I can borrow Dev’s wooden shoe-stretcher thing and try to stretch it out. Or thirdly, I can keep wearing them till I run out of tears and develop a callus that will no longer let me feel pain. I am GOING TO MAKE THIS WORK. My kids’ teacher, Ms. Hanley calls this PERSISTENCE, I think.

Oh, lovely, horrible shoes. I still love thee. But you could have been better.

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