TrUe ShOe LOve!!

Why is it not believable if the poor old woman lived in a shoe! It was a woman and not a man so quite a believable plot. Nursery rhymes are rhetoric but this one does help me conjure up a huge burgundy red snake skin Manolo Blahnik, though if I wouldn’t live in it but I would definitely, certainly, positively live with it happily ever after. All of my species does dream of sleeping over in a shoe store at least if not in a shoe sometime or the other. But men, especially the straight ones can’t comprehend the obsession, the emotion and the experience shoe shopping and shoe keeping brings along.
Since childhood girls are subjected princesses and their worth writing about stories and shoes have been an important part of it. Every time when you sit back on the plush high seat and slip your lovely feet into the chosen ones it is the fairytale experience. You feel how Cinderella would have felt trying on the glass slippers. Well the glass slippers were literally the sole reason for her happy ending.

Possessing those blue suede shoes and strutting into those satin yellow sling backs to your friend’s bachelorette and stealing the thunder on your sister’s birthday wearing those pink floral open toe heels. Shoes not only elevate you but levitate your spirits, mend your mood and will heighten your attitude. Not only gives you an endorphin rush but is a prescribed therapy for the break up heartaches, post bridal blues, no date panic attacks and low self esteem syndrome.
Though avoiding those much needed shoe shopping trips might lead to J factor advancement and turn you green when you spot your neighbour walk out of the door wearing that sort after pair or your old and ugly boss suddenly starts wearing black and gold Choos.

Not just the buying but possessing them and cherishing them is an experience all together. So you keep them in the shoe houses wrapped in soft covers. So what if my feet cry for mercy when I wear the blue python peep toe stilettos or how does it matter that they go out gracing my feet but come back home in my arms. But sunning them, airing them, sometimes taking them for a walk, periodically shining them with the right cloth and applying the right amount of gloss; it almost equals to the joys of having prized pets and how overwhelming they do not leak or poop and would never die on you!

But all joys and happy times come with an expiry date. People around you claiming to be your well wishers would tell you, coax you to part ways with them. They would blatantly barge into your private space and rummage through the neatly lined little boxes of joy and keep chanting oh my god so many of them, so many of them; how would they know you cannot ever get enough. “You do not even have these many clothes!!” why would not they understand that there is no relation there I might buy a dress or two to wear with my best two halves. After lot of profound thinking and long fiery debates you decide to let go of few of them. But the hardest part is yet to come the ideal way have a graceful farewell for these beauties; it is painful but giving them away to those skinny friends who have had their eyes on my lovelies – not an option. Giving away to strangers whom you would never see might mean euthanasia. Why not burry them in my backyard at least I would know they rest in peace. Or just let me stack them in my attic or garage I would like to pass them on to my next generations, as it is my unshakable belief that even the Alpha Beta generation’s women will feel the love for these foot adornments.