Here’s a story about shoes because I am just that boring these days. Last weekend I was at the mall because I wanted new shoes for vacation. First I went to Journeys because I wanted Adidas, but for some reason I ended up gravitating to this one pair of Vans. The kid who brought out my size would not stop hovering and it was so awkward because each shoe was 100% unlaced so I had to struggle with that while under a spotlight and it was just too much for meek ol’ Erin. Like, can a girl lace up her shoes in private, please? I barely tried them on. I got one on my left foot, wiggled my toes around, declared it A Fit, and then checked out. As the kid was sliding the box into the bag, the Journeys guy at the register next to him looked over and said, “Ooh, Vans platforms! Nice!”
I laughed nervously and as we walked out of the store, I whispered to Henry, “What did he mean by that?” and Henry was just like, “I only pay attention when people are talking about plain New Balances, so I don’t know.”
I quickly looked up the shoes on my phone and they were definitely platforms, like an entire inch and a half. I hate platforms! I’m 5’4″ and like being on the shorter side! So now these shoes just looked like fucking pee Wee Herman shoes to me. “Well, I can’t wear these. We have to take them back.”
Henry wanted to do it right then but I was like, “THAT IS EMBARRASSING. You can return them tomorrow.” Lol.
So he did, he went to a different mall the next day and returned them for me. Then I went to a third mall on a mission to just buy the fucking Adidas I had my eyes on in the first place, and even though Henry tried to veer me in the right direction, I was like, “No. I want to try this place first.”
And that is how I ended up in a store called Jimmy Jazz, purchasing a pair of soft pink Pumas from the juniors section. I loved them for half a day until I wore them to work the next day and realized after the fourth time I tripped on the walk to the trolley that they were just too big. How did I not realize this at the store!? The fact that they’re a 6.5 and my other kids’ shoes are a 5 should have probably been a good indication, but I hate shopping and just want to get the hell out of the mall and all I cared about was that they felt cozy.
Of course they felt cozy! They’re nearly two sizes too big! My fucking feet could have a banquet in there! They were flopping around like it was the 1990s and slam-dancing was still a thing!
I don’t know what that means!
Let’s just say that the shoes were too big and I looked like an idiot shuffling around downtown in clown shoes.
Even aside from wearing them, Henry had already thrown away the receipt so I couldn’t exchange them for a smaller size. So I gifted them to Chooch who doesn’t want them because OMG they’re pink and hello they’re not even really PINK, thank you, but more of a CORAL!! in the key of Rick Grimes.
Maybe even you could say salmon.
He won’t wear them to school but he did wear them out around the neighborhood yesterday (and almost immediately stepped in a pile of HUGE dog shit logs). I MEAN IF THE SHOE FITS, AMIRITE?
Anway, here are some pictures of him in the shoes because if I can’t get my $45 back, at least let me use them as a goddamn prop.
I also forgot to mention that I bought a really cute pair of Iron Fist shoes to wear on Valentines Day and they too were too big and have sitting in a box in the backseat of the car for over a month because Henry and I keep putting off sending them back.
I don’t know you guys, I think they’re cool as hell and Chooch can honestly pull it off, pink or not. We did have to turn around and run into an alley at one point though because he saw jerks from his school and didn’t want to be seen, but I’m not sure if it was the shoes or his MOM he was more ashamed of.
Well, that’s my story about how somehow after 38 years I have turned into the goddamned Goldilocks of shoes. I’m 0 for 3. Bye now.