My Shame

I have a number of addictions.  Gemstones, jewelry, lampwork beads, antiques.  Then I have my secret shame.  Prepare yourself, it is quite shameful and I can hardly admit it.  Okay…whew….I can do this.  My name is Melissa and I’m addicted to SHOES!

Some people nurse their addiction at a bar; I get my fix at DSW.  They have the best clearance rack!  And who doesn’t love to get their fix at 30, 40, or 50 percent off!  The selection on the clearance rack is always changing.  From really awesome heels to really cute flats, great athletic shoes to cute sandals.  The DSW clearance rack has them all!  It’s not just DSW.  I scope the shoe rack at any store that carries them.  You never know what gem you might find!

You may think this is a recent addiction.  No, this was something I learned from my mother.  She has fine taste in shoes (from the clearance rack, of course).  She was the Imelda Marcos of the clearance rack (okay, I kid.  Mom never had 2700 pairs of shoes.  If you don’t know who Imelda is – educate yourself http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imelda_Marcos ).  I fondly remember some of the best shoes I had as a kid.  The hot pink hi-top Chucks (Converse to those who aren’t in the know), my numerous pairs of jelly shoes (to go with my jelly purse and jelly band bracelets, of course.  A proper lady must accessorize!), and the piece de resistance – the black pair of granny boots (even back then I was obsessed with the Victorian era; lucky for me granny boots were in style).  I LOVED those granny boots.  They have been replaced with other pairs over the years.

In high school I loved my Mary Janes and my penny loafers.  Even though grunge reigned supreme in the 90’s, I never did get into the Doc Martens.   I was very fortunate that my feet stopped growing in the 6^th grade.  No longer was there a concern about outgrowing my favorite shoes (BTW – I’m sure you would find my Mary Janes if you looked through my stuff at my parents’ house).  The only concern now was wearing my favorites out.

Fast forward to a couple of years ago.  My addiction caught up to me.  There were shoes everywhere.  Shoes in the master bedroom closet.  Shoes in the guest room.  Shoes in the living room.  Shoes under the bed, under the couch, under the coffee table.  It was out of control and I was constantly asking my long-suffering husband to help me find the pair I needed for my outfit.  The conversation would go something like this:

                Me:  “Aaron – have you seen my black pumps?”

                Aaron (pulling a pair from the closet):  “Do you mean these?”

                Me : “No, the ones with the gold buckle.”

                Aaron (pulling another pair):  “These?”

                Me:  “No, the slides.”

                Aaron (pulling yet another pair):  “These?”

                Me:  “No, no – the Bandalinos.”

                Aaron:  “How many pairs of black shoes do you really need?  They all look the same!”

                Me:  “You’re a guy; you just don’t get it.”

Poor Aaron (“Saint Aaron” as he is known in some circles).  This was a conversation we would have almost daily.  So one evening I decided I must do something about it.  First step – admit you have a problem.  With Aaron’s help, I gathered up every shoe and put them all in the living room.  Then we proceeded to match and mate them all.  Then I figured out which ones I could live without.  Some were in bad condition and it was just time to say good-bye.  Some were never or rarely worn.  A number of these went in a donate pile.

I am happy to report about ¼ of the shoes went in the garbage.  About another ¼ went in the donate pile.  I patted myself on the back.  The remaining ½ went into crates, organized by type:  Summer, dress, heel, casual.  You get the point.  I then put myself on a “shoe diet”.  For about one year, I did not buy a new pair of shoes.  Then I needed some new sneakers.  

I can report to you my shoe addiction is more controlled.  I still buy cute shoes, just not as often.  I resist the urge to stop in at DSW and see what’s on the clearance rack.  But sometimes….the shoe is just too cute to pass up.

Until Tomorrow – Melissa

 I apologize for the poor quality, but this was the sorting of the shoes.