The Shoe Gene

It seems that some women just have an inherent sense of style. My friend Heather is one of these women. She ALWAYS looks fabulously put-together, and most of, if not all of, her clothes are brand-name and this season's fashion. She also seems to have the perfect pair of shoes to match every one of her tastefully paired outfits. They are all stylish. Most look terribly uncomfortable. Yet, I am jealous.

I, on the other hand, borderline on the frumpy. I probably have 20 pairs of shoes to my name (Greg would probably argue that I have more, but I just cleaned my closet so I have a pretty good idea of what was in there). Probably only five of these have been purchased in the past three or four years. Three of these five are variations of the exact same shoe, just in different colors to compliment black, brown, or in-between. I own more than this because I am the worst type of pack-rat that can't bear to throw anything away, including my incredibly cheaply made and terribly old shoes that I will most likely never wear again but just have to hang on to in case I am suddenly struck with the desire to wear those plasticy lace-up sandals I purchased at Payless a full decade and a half ago. I have not seemed to inherit "the shoe gene". This is the gene that many women seem to have that allows them to constantly appear as if they have stepped directly out of a clothing catalogue. This same gene directs them to the perfect pair of shoes that tops off each carefully selected outfit. I can appreciate this trait in others, but regretfully for me, it is all about comfort and function.

Try as I might to dress tastefully, I am just not lucky enough to have inherited the shoe gene. However, I am starting to believe that Emily may have. She has developed an appreciation for shoes that I have not yet witnessed in another 16-month old. She loves shoes with an intensity previously reserved only for Greg and her blankie. Literally, twice this week the first words out of her mouth as she was plucked from her crib were "a shoes, a shoes. On, on on!!". She says this frantically while pointing to her closet, and then will not settle down until she is taken to the closet to assess her shoes. She has to pick out her own pair to wear each day, the pair I select for her will simply not do. She even has a favorite pair. They are brown leather Osh Kosh's, Mary-Jane style, with three little flowers stitched onto the toes of each, the center flower topped with a rhinestone. They are by far the least practical pair of shoes that she owns, yet unless I am able to hide them from view before she spies them, they are always the pair that she wants to wear. She then proudly stomps around in her favorite shoes, every once in a while making sure to point them out, just in case I haven't noticed - "shoes!". *Sigh*. I am already seeing dollar signs as I think ahead to the school and teenage years. I have a sneaking suspicion that plasticy lace-up sandals from Payless will not be acceptable for Emily. And inevitably she is going to want to have the perfect pair to compliment each outfit. I can only hope that some of Emily's sense of style will rub off on me eventually. Wishful thinking.