A girl and her shoes

I love shoes. But as I was wearing my Cowboy boots tonight, I decided that if I had to choose what shoes come with me on a desert island it would be: My black patent leather Mephisto sandals and my cowboy boots (and OK, my running shoes too, but that kinda puts a damper on my desert island plans).

I remember when Birkenstocks first became mainstream. I begged and pleaded for my mom to get me a pair. But she said they weren't sensible for posture and whatnot. I persisted. So she got me a knock-off pair to see if I'd actually wear them or if my obsession would pass before I wore the shoes out. I wore them out until they were nothing but a flap of leather and a couple of buckles. I love cork-sandals. I've grown up a bit and now wear Mephisto sandals (I think I have them in 5 colors). But now that the weather has turned a little too cold to have bare feet (and I've since stopped wearing my sandals with my woolen socks) I have turned to real shoes.

3 years ago while on Cowgirl Weekend in Los Olivos, I had a few hours to myself and wandered aimlessly through the shops, especially Jedlicka's. I found myself a really cool cowboy hat (that my mother-in-law tried to buy first but I scolded her away from it) and then I kept passing the wall of boots. Then I found them. MY boots. I officially fell in love with a real shoe (boot). I love them. I love they way they look and feel. And I love the way I look and feel. Love, love, love them. I can't wait until they are old and worn. Maybe they'll become real. I've actually ridden horses while wearing them, so they are on their way to being real, I think.

And then there is my running shoes. But they change and fall apart and I fall in and out of love with my running shoes so fast it's hard to have a real relationship with them. But it's a wild love affair while it lasts.