I'm doing it again. I'm giving personalities and other human qualities to non-living stuff. It's all because I'm cheating on my faithful clogs. I recently bought a new pair of clogs to replace my old ones. I had a hard time developing the nerve to actually make the purchase.
I was heading down to Urbana with David a while back for a law school alumni thingy. While David did law school stuff, I got the chance to catch up with friends. I also got the chance to visit one of my all-time favorite shoe stores. This particular shoe store is unmatched (in my opinion) in the range of good-for-your-feet shoe brands that it offers. I believe the store was opened by retired foot doctors. They will make special modifications for you, you can buy two shoes that are two different sizes, etc. As you can imagine, they sell Birkenstock, Born, Clarks, Ecco, Dansko, Josef Seibel -- the usual suspects.
Now, let me interrupt myself here to say that I am far from the stereotypical female with Imelda aspirations. I am not a fan of stilettos nor shoes that reveal toe cleavage nor anything "cute" nor shoes referred to only by a designer's name. I'm a practical kind of woman. A woman with ugly wide feet who just wants shoes that are comfortable, don't look too orthopedic, and that come in colors like black, brown, and the occasional red. I like having a few basic pairs of shoes that can be worn with multiple outfits.
While I was in grad school I bought a pair of Dansko clogs from the foot doctor store. I bought these in black oiled leather. I struggled with a rationalization for buying them. They cost a lot more than what I typically spent on shoes. I loved them so much, though. I figured they would be my "casual" shoes since I knew they looked good with jeans. I took the plunge. I realized, of course, after just a few weeks of wear that they are the best shoes ever and they really do go with everything. I wore them constantly.
About three years ago, the stitching that holds the back portion to the front on one clog had completely unraveled. I took my clogs back to the cool shoe store for repair. While there I fell in love with a pair of Dansko shoes. They have a button on them. They are super comfortable like my clogs. The rationalization to purchase this pair was that the clogs had been loved for long enough that they didn't look very nice with my not-casual attire.
I bought the button shoes the day that I picked up my clogs. I opened the box with my clogs only to find that they were like new! It was like they had spent a weekend at spa and drank water with lemon slices while relaxing in a mud wrap. I could not wait to put them on.
Fast forward to this past January. The clogs were struggling. I knew we were headed down to Champaign and had gotten a postcard advertising a shoe sale at my favorite store. I find it much easier now to rationalize the expense of the clogs -- I definitely get my money's worth out of them during approximately 8 years of use -- but I found myself hesitating to replace my first clogs. They have been such loyal friends. They have served me so well. We have been everywhere together.
I bought new clogs exactly like the old ones. I've kept the old ones for mucking around (like I have lots of opportunity for that in the big city). I can't part with them just yet. I know that I have real mental problems when I find myself avoiding placing the two pairs of clogs next to each other in the closet. I feel a slight twinge of guilt when I put on the new clogs and admire their fresh appearance. Am I cheating on my old friends?
Yes. It appears I have too much free time. Yes. I have assigned human emotions to inanimate objects. I can't even tell you how bad I feel when I park the new Focus next to my dear, old Wagenschen.
I really need to find something to occupy my brain's freetime. There must be something besides imagining that my shoes feel sad that I could be using my brain for.
