The Patron Saint Of Shoes
Right now I am looking down at my feet. The open bloodied blisters look as if I have received stigmata. With the amount of pain and suffering I have endured, I believe I would be a good candidate for sainthood.
Once again, I have bought another pair of uncomfortable shoes.
My quest for a cute comfortable shoe is never-ending. I have closets filled with what I call little works of art because of their non existing comfort level. These are not shoes to be worn but displayed in a gallery somewhere. Perhaps, on the shelves of the stores from which they came.
This weekend we are going to Poland and Prague for Labor Day and my feet are already aching. While I know the practical thing to do would be to pack a pair of tennis shoes, I just can’t bring myself to do so. I don’t want to look like a stupid American tourist.
John just does not understand how important this is to me. Superficial as it may sound, I start coordinating my outfits weeks before we travel anywhere.
I love that I wore my yellow snake skin cowboy boots in the Louvre despite the painful blisters. I think that made the Mona Lisa smile...
My dilemma is even more amplified with our upcoming trips to Rome and Japan in the next couple of months. I am not so worried about Japan. I might be able to pull off wearing little tennis shoes with a cute skirt but Rome, that’s a whole different story.
If John had it his way, I’d probably be trekking through the Vatican in a pair of Merrell hiking boots like the expensive ones he bought me when we first started dating. I haven’t had the heart to tell him, that they make blisters on my feet too.
Maybe the Mona Lisa's enigmatic smile is telling us something.
She probably knew what it was like to wear uncomfortable shoes in the name of fashion. Leonardo only painted her from the waist up. Perhaps, he spared us by not showing her calloused and corn ridden feet.
Or maybe he just got sick of her complaining and had to stop there.
With all this mind, I am looking forward
to the possibility of being in a wheelchair when I am older.
It won't be so bad because I will be wearing little works of art upon my feet.