I have always been particular about the shoes I wear (even though I mostly wear sneakers). Shoe shopping is a major event in my life, and finding a pair of shoes I like (on buying and on wearing afterwards) can be the means of continuous joy every time I tie them on, or on the reverse, disgust and embarrassment that grows as the days goes on. A Shoe has got to be just so, and if the sole is to flat, to wide, or the point to pointy, it just won’t do. It’s got to be comfortable enough (it’s gonna last the next 2 years), and have the ability to wear out with dignity, and not look like a flab-master after the first six months (or ever).
Luckily in the era I live and grew up in, sneakers are bountiful, and most Roxy’s, Lizards or Addida’s could offer you a pair, but you see, here is the crux: I just cannot spend 600 bucks on a pair of shoes. However good companions we become, you don’t just step on such amount of money. I tired the argument of necessity, quality, an even the immaterialness of money, but somehow the savings always finds another use.
So when ever I want to grumble at the tatty-ness of my attire, I remind myself, I choose to wear these shoes. It is a choice I make, because there are other things I find more important. 
No comments:
Post a Comment