Shoes. OMG, shoes.
Snowshoeing in Tahoe really did these ones in
No one had ever complimented me on my shoes. Why would they? They’re just, y’know, shoes. But that last pair I had, people loved those ones. Friends, colleagues, and at least one shopkeeper all dug my footwear. I appreciated it, but it was weird for people to have opinions about my possessions.
But I kinda loved them. As I usually do, by the end. Not for their style or materials, not the eyelets and sole stitching of their physical form, but for the time we trod together, the moments and their memories that we walked through. My shoes usually last about half a year. That is, an off-season and a tour season. By the end of the latter, they’re generally pretty ripe with Roman kilometers and their sweat, Parisian avenues and their petite piles of l’puppy poopoo, then perhaps a retirement on the pedals of my bicycle, hospice on the easy floors of my apartment.
These shoes were made for walking,
and not one time did they crash,
but after all these sweaty miles
they’re going in the trash.
I walked from one part of my life to another in this pair.
When the time comes to set them aside, it usually takes me awhile. “These have pretty much had it” I’ll think over the course of a week or four. “Time to get a new pair.” Then somehow I’m still wearing them.
I’m not a very good customer. Not skilled at consumerism, nor devout in my materialism. I feel satisfaction at wearing something out instead of throwing away a still serviceable item. I don’t get a rush when I buy something new, no pleasure when it’s time to purchase.
Connection to things only comes at the end, for me. When I set them on the garbage can in Amsterdam, seeing it as a museum pedestal when I walk away to catch the airport tram. And I wanted to salute when I put this last pair, worn well beyond the norm, into the bin.
I wonder where this next pair will take me
No, it’s not that I love shoes. They’re just useful for protecting my feet. But when their job is done, they remind me to say thank you for the miles. To give gratitude for every pace of living.
Your shoes are tied to a lot of good memories. I can see why it would be difficult to part with them.
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And I just get used to the same ones, I always think they’ve got just one more day or three in them…
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I have funny-shaped feet. Shoes that fit right are friends for life. I’ve resoled shoes that are 40 years old. Shoes that don’t fit make a hasty departure.
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I can imagine! A resoled shoe, now that would feel like family.
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You’re the only person I know who can write an awesome ode to shoes..
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hahaha I would say “they were on my mind” but “they were on my feet” would be more accurate.
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Were your new shoes 300 dollars?! I left my Camino shoes on top of a dumpster in Zagreb and was gratified to see them reappropriated/transcended within half an hour.
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I think they were about $50? But I did select them after a process of these shoes rule, these shoes suck, these shoes rule, these shoes SUCK! Camino shoes reappropriated! That’s impressive. I remember people burning theirs at Finesterra… I like your method better.
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Brilliant post about shoes, they are just good companions walking us through adventures and great experiences. I feel the same for thanking them when you apart from them, it’s like saying good bye to a good friend.
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Plus, a poor/uncomfortable pair can really prove itself an enemy… 😉
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The shoes themselves, mean nothing, obviously (except, perhaps, to Imelda Marcos); it’s the symbolism they evoke that resonates. Of course you already knew that, because you all but said as much in your post.
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I almost feel bad for poor Imelda, having so many shoes she presumably never got a chance to get really familiar with any of them. Though I somehow doubt that impoverished her experience of life.
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The next pair may take you on so many miles, who knows? Thank you for posting!
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I’ll be curious to see… Hopefully they make it through at least a few thousand. 😉
Thank you for reading!
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Thank you so much. I love reading what you write. funny and interesting! Thank you for posting them.
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I’m like you — I never realize how much I love a pair of shoes until it’s time to throw them away. Which is hard! I start thinking of all the places those shoes have touched; the miles they’ve covered; the terrains they’ve traveled. They feel like old friends at that point.
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It seems totally natural to write a travel post about shoes, but strangely, I haven’t seen one before. Growing up, my family didn’t have much money, but one thing my parents instilled in me was to buy good quality shoes, which will take care of you for a long time – a philosophy I hold to this day. ~James
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That seems like a very good principle. My mom was always telling me to get a proper pair of shoes, especially when I’m abroad, and I tended to just think “shoes are shoes” but the other day I was listening to someone talk about how much a lifetime of cheap shoes has messed up their back. I knew there was a whole undiscovered world UNDER my feet, but I hadn’t realized how much variety and importance there was ON them.
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Wishing you a great time with your new companions! 🙂
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They’re sitting over there, looking at me, waiting for the train to the airport…
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