I am a woman so therefore I like “woman” things, according to them.
I like to substitute actual dessert with shitty, chemical-laced low-fat yogurt bearing the same name of the actual dessert.
I like to have old white men with shriveled balls control my family planning.
I’ve watched Sex and The City so I know I’m supposed to love expensive shoes, mindless consumerism, and two horrible movies, but I don’t. I fucking hate shoes.
I get the necessity of them. They’re helpful when walking on broken glass, hypodermic needles and tar balls of gonorrhea. They conceal hairy toes, yellowed toenails, and feet stench (not mine…a friend’s). They assist when kicking a ball or a nutsack.
But I just don’t get the shoe-shopping fetish that has been ascribed to women ever since Cinderella screwed her foot into a glass slipper and married a dolt.
The shoes are mostly uncomfortable, yes? I can’t be the only one who experiences the sensation my toes are merging into one when I cram a high heel onto my foot and proceed to trot-wobble around like a newly-born foal. They also seem to be made on the cheap. When I picked up a slingback, it disintegrated into a pile of insulation, sawdust and the tears of the seven-year-old who made it.*
*This is a lie because it would mean I would have to know what the fuck a slingback is and that I’ve also gone shoe-shopping in the last decade.
Shoe-shopping is on par with making a sandwich at the beach without plates, and attending weekend-long dance recitals not starring your child.
The trouble is, I need to go shoe-shopping. Like me, my shoes are falling apart. It became apparent when I mistakenly left a pair of shoes at the gym, and they went untouched for a month. I figured if they were pretty good shoes, someone would have walked away with them–literally.
But they were these:
I’ve worn these for over the last five years. These shoes are the worst shoes because they have no back to them yet I wear them in the winter, during rainstorms, mud tornadoes, etc. because I am a moron. They slip on easily and I guess I can’t be bothered to spend that extra millisecond wedging my heel into a shoe.
I used to have other “dressy” shoes for work, but they’re in even worse condition and/or lost because I can’t be bothered to look in my closet.
I nearly left these shoes, but I do have a wedding coming up.
I do have my “summer” shoes:
They’ve taken on the appearance of a roadside attraction in central Florida.
And I own a pair of sneakers for Zumba. They are currently caked in grass snippets because I mowed a wet lawn in them when I had mistakenly left my “dressy” shoes at the gym.