At the beginning of the year I bought a pair of brown braided leather sandals from Novo Shoes. This purchase was deliberated over quite seriously: I didn’t want tough, practical, scuffs or flimsy delicate things with only a toe strap and buckle to keep it all together. The former because that’s the type of sandal I always end up with and the latter because I have ugly feet and no one needs (or wants) to see that.
So these shoes were pretty, yet functional. Or so I thought. Turns out they had no grip. Slipperier than ice, on more than one occasion I’d skated across our tiles, thinking, “Gee, that could’ve been nasty.”
Then, two Sundays ago, I did have a nasty fall at Clifton Hill station. Running between platforms to catch a connecting train, I sidestepped to avoid someone only to have my feet fall out from under me. I landed badly, scraping my right leg and hitting my head. The person I tried to miss, an elderly Asian man, stopped and apologised.
“No, no, no, no,” I said. “I’m the one who’s sorry. It was my fault.”
He helped pick me up, a gentle hand on my elbow, and I limped to my train, catching it with seconds to spare.
Bruised, rubbing my leg on the journey home, I felt no embarrassment, no shame for my clumsiness as I normally do after such accidents. This time, I felt a resignation, a tiredness: this is how it’s going to be now. I feel like I need to give up the inner-girlishness I’ve always clung onto because I’m not a girl anymore. Once upon a time, even in such shoes, I would’ve been able to avert a fall. Even the buy could be seen as a recasting, since I had a similar pair (though white) when I was a teenager.
It seems the game has changed.
Then, yesterday, I was wearing the shoes and the soles split. Well, they more than split, the rubber crumbled to bits. And I thought, “Serves me right for not buying the scuffs.”
Since my Problogger post on Sunday I’ve been getting some desperate emails from people asking for help and advice about blogging: How do you do it?
Honestly, I’m not sure how to reply: I don’t know! Look at me today, I’m talking about shoes! Shoes!? I just sit down and write; I have no goddamn idea most of the time.
I just do it.
I’m not sure that helps at all. I hope it does.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go price some sensible Birkenstocks.
