Agony of De-FEET

I have been blessed with a large walk-in closet. It's absurd to see the amount of clothes and shoes that I own but never wear. It seems that I keep reverting back to wearing the same old comfortable turtleneck, sweater, corduroys and moccasins. Since I work at a desk located in my own home, I don't have to break out the stiletto heels and dry-cleanable suits and satin blouses. (Thank you, Lord!)

Recently I decided that I needed to review my footwear inventory and perform a spring cleaning (in the middle of January).
I made one huge mistake.
I counted.
A woman should NEVER EVER count her shoes. I have this adding machine in my head that turns on automatically and calculates what I have spent.

Let's review:
Four pairs of western boots that I will only wear to a costume party. It seems that each of my three trips to a western town and one yahoo of a rodeo visit inspired me to think that I should give the memory of Annie Oakley a run for her six-shooters. I have four hats to match, of course.
I own eight pairs of spiked golf shoes. When I say "spiked", I don't mean someone has snuck vodka in the souls, I mean they have spikes on the bottom of them. Golfers haven't been allowed to wear spikes in their shoes for 15 years because they tear up the greens. They have replaced the spikes with useless nubbins now on the soul of their shoes, which is no fun. They don't create the snappy clicking sound that you hear when you are looking for your errant golf ball on the neighboring fairway's cart-path.

Of course, I have kept twelve pair of high heels from my past life associated with the insurance industry and just looking at these mini-torture chambers makes my toes curl...literally.

One would think that one would throw out their tap dancing and ballet shoes...especially if they are size 4 and "one" in now size 8 but not me!

As I continued surveying the "shoe corral", I found seven pair of winter boots, including my first pair of "desert boots" given to me by my college roommate in 1973. That year we gave each other the same present without knowing it. (The pair Lynne gave me were of a much nicer quality than the ones I gave her, darn it!)
I even discovered that I had two pair of saddle shoes left over from 1964!

Add these to my every-day rotation of five pair of tennis shoes (I haven't played tennis in 27 years but it sounds better than "grocery-shopping shoes") and six pair of clogs, three mismatched shoes of some kind or another, four sets of slippers, and nine pair of sandals (most that need repair), there is enough footwear to stock four Consignment Shops.

I should NEVER have counted. My calculations showed that I was harboring nearly sixty pair of shoes at a value that approached close to $2,328.34.

So, what do you think I did? Any sane, normal person would throw the fool things out or certainly donate them to a worthy cause.
Not me.

I stuffed them all back in the closet and quickly closed the door before they filed out in protest of poor living conditions.
I think I'll wait until tomorrow to tackle my sock drawers.