I am probably not a typical woman, as I do not like shoe shopping, for me it is more of a chore than a pleasure. If you take Imelda Marcos, I am at the totally opposite end of the shoe-shopper spectrum.
It does not mean I cannot appreciate pretty stylish shoes, actually I do, but it is the shopping process itself that I deplore. I usually go for the first comfy pair I can find.
I find it difficult to find a pair of shoes (or boots) that will be comfortable and stylish at the same time. My problem is that my foot bone - not sure if it is called a fibula - is quite low, and most shoes I try, have the edge just at that very level, which means I will have blisters very soon if I decide to wear them. High heels are also a No-No for me, as I walk long distances in town and also need to be able to sprint after my older son in case he bolts into the crowd. So I tend to buy shoes which my husband calls with derision "granny shoes". I know he has a point, but I would have liked him to keep his opinion to himself.
Today I left my three guys at home and went out into the heavy rain. I needed new boots for this weather. After trying several pairs at Clarks, I found the pair that was comfy. I put them on in the shop and continued my shopping trip.
As I was walking I thought about my late Dad. When he was young, he wanted to be a shoe-maker. He later chose a different profession but he always appreciated a nice pair of shoes, and I trusted his opinion completely. He knew lots about the leather quality and craftsmanship. Sometimes I think with a sad smile that he would have probably been appalled to see some of the shabby shoes I am wearing. He was a stylish man, with dapper shoes, which he looked after, cleaning and polishing.
I also remember a lovely pair of shoes my Mum and I found in one of the Moscow shops for my high school graduation ceremony (a Prom equivalent). They were latte-coloured and made of the softest suede with the pointed toes. They made me feel like a movie star. I have had them for a good number of years, first wearing them only indoors, later outdoors as well. When the heels got too tattered and shabby, my Dad made a silver casing for each heel, so that they looked almost like new. I wish I kept them, as a memento of my young days.
Nowadays I spend more time choosing shoes for my sons than for myself. Eddie takes after his grandfather whom he never met and likes to look dapper. He also loves his wellies. But that's another story.