This is my affair and affliction that I am no longer willing to fight. Try as hard as I might, resistance is futile. I lie and I cheat. I'll beg and I'll borrow. For me, my goal is to run in a different pair with each passing morrow.
There is a long-held belief in our culture that women have too many women shoes. The myth also holds that this obsession is with fashionable, cute (a.k.a. painful) high-heeled shoes. While I may have my fair share of high-heeled shoes, my obsession/love affair has ventured down another path.
My love affair and shoe obsession is with running shoes.... More specifically, my obsession is with Nike shoes. Mainly because I have Flinstone feet. That's right. They are short, fat, and square. All my toes are the same length. Even better, this seems to be a family trait with a high degree of heritability. (I'd post a picture, but feet are never attractive.) My obsession remains true to this brand because they always fit my feet and don't vary from model to model. (In other words, I can order online and not worry about returning them, which the same cannot be said for women's clothing.)
However, this obsession is probably up to around 10 pairs in my closet (at least). My belief is that each pair needs to "breathe" at least a day in between use to maintain optimum performance. While there are studies to back up rotating exercise shoes, the studies have yet to recommend the need to own that many pairs.
But that doesn't stop me. I justify each pair as "motivation" and carry on. The only one who really has a hard time with my justifications is my husband. He has yet to understand why I need so many, because after all, you can only wear one pair at a time.
Fortunately, I found the perfect example to show why my justification is necessary. You see, the other day, he cleaned all of his boots. Yes, he uses them for work, to ride, and also to rope. But as he's told me, "You can only wear one pair at a time." Well, I kid you not, he had at least 30 pairs drying outside the back door the other day. We could've opened our own western wear store as long as all of our customers wore his size of shoe.
But after seeing his boots lined up neatly--each waiting their turn to go back in the house--I could only chuckle to myself. For you see, there in full glory was a brilliant example of how shoe obsessions are not limited to women and high-heeled shoes. I now believe his point on my shoe obsession is moot and my love affair is free to continue. Maybe one day he will agree. Until then, I will remain a firm believer of "the one who dies with the most shoes runs the fastest through Heaven's gates."
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