As long as I can remember, I have loved shoes. I used to have a plaque hanging on the wall, just above my office desk that read, “I can handle anything, as long as I have the right shoes.”
This shoe fetish is not unique to only me, but shoe mavens come in all sorts of genders, religions, races and cultures. Even Hillary and Trump supporters find themselves gathered at the same shoes racks. (Probably arguing over the same pair of shoes, shezzz)
Shopping for shoes is a happy occasion, unlike trying on a bathing suit. Ugh! For men, I suppose it’s like buying a set of new tools, versus having to locate a GRN T Handle/Screw or a 2PK1-1/16×1-3/16 O-Ring!
Shoes are powerful, they can make us look sexy, successful or homeless. Shoes can make or break the outfit, shoes can change the way you feel, from depressed to joyful or unattractive and frumpy to gorgeous and in demand.
Shoes are forgiving and loyal, they are always there for you, no matter how much weight you have gained. For women your skinny jeans are just the opposite. Skinny jeans are temperamental and one sided. Skinny jeans are set in their ways and expect you to remain as you were on the day you bought them. (How boring)
For men, your tools are always there. They know their place in your special tool box. Philips screwdriver, flathead screwdriver, hammers, a level and a snappy tape measure. The tools snuggle together like puppies in a cozy corner. They are reliable and get better with age.
Flats, heels, boots, ballets, sandals, clogs, platforms, wedges, strappy, buckled, lace-ups, peep-toes, I can’t help it, I love them all. My heart races and every sparkle has my name on it.
There’s something about those killer heels. Despite the pain and suffering, I buy them even when I can’t afford them and sometimes they sit in my closet for years and years. “Someday I’ll wear them….”
What is it about those horny heels, worn with clothes or without, (Lights on or maybe not) that make them so doggone fascinating to heterosexual men?
Is it a sculptural, visual thing? The lengthening of leg? The boosting of the booty? This theory surely explains why men whistle at the sashay of a female passerby. A woman’s tush in a tight fitting dress unarguably has more drama and punch if she’s in high-heels. Racy, steamy and spicy, all wrapped up in a pair of shoes!
You can only imagine when the guard gives you a pair of 5lb black boots. Steel toed, flat, bulky and worn by other’s before you. I suppose had I dressed in short-shorts with a tool belt and a hammer, I could have flaunted a little female sizzle. Black boots with kaki colored pants with elastic waistbands, lack sex appeal from all angles.
We all know the importance of exercising, no matter your circumstances. Black boots did not offer the ease of exercise. I was dreaming of a pair of multi-colored Asics. Asics, are incredibly durable, and offer a stand-out gel cushioning system, optimizing shock (I did not need my shock optimized in prison, just sayin) and absorption. Asics, running shoes do glow in the dark and maximize nighttime safety. (Personally, had I chosen to escape, these would have been my first choice.)
Walking and stumbling over miles and miles with my black boots only depressed me more. I was tired, sore and discouraged. When I was child, my dad, encouraged me not to focus on the pain or injury, but to focus on how great I would feel when the pain was relieved. I tried to focus on the parts of my body that were not hurting. It was a short focus!
I noticed the women with running shoes had an attitude of yay, they seemed lighter on their feet with a renewed sense of energy. Someday I too, would join the ranks of other inmates with my own running shoes. That was my focus.
Sometime in late September, as I slugged around the compound a lady walked up to me and asked me if I needed some running shoes. I almost fell over, a “running shoe angel” appeared! “Yes, I am hoping for a pair soon”. She said she had worn her running shoes out and wanted to know if I wanted them. She was wearing a pair of brand new white running shoes. Wow, I was salivating at that time. “Yes, I would love them”.
My new (used) running shoes were like marshmallows. I felt stronger, faster and now “one of them”. I was in the club! Prison was becoming more tolerable, because I could finally walk, pain free and enjoy the smell of the trees while inhaling the fresh mountain air. The thrill of victory, and no more agony of d’feet!
My worn out running shoes were special and unique, with several strategically placed holes. Holes on the outsole and on the top of the toe area. I chose to find the benefits of “holy running shoes”, and I looked forward to slipping them on my tired aching feet. I felt like Cinderella in her glass slippers.
I favored the holes on the top of the shoe. This unique built-in cooling system worked quite efficiently, especially in the hot temperatures of West Virginia. They were reliable, expansive at times, and odor free.
The holes on the outsole, had their own personality. Sometimes, I would find small gifts of pebbles, grass or dirt. Sometimes all three in one!
My most memorable gift was sound. Yes, I said sound. It was a squish-squish sound, the sound of water. After a rain, I would meander to the track and as I walked slowly, I would come to notice a sound beginning to resonate from me feet. I couldn’t help but giggle a little, because the squish-squish sound, sounded like flatulence.
Today, women, strut through the upscale restaurants like Del Frisco’s in South Park, or cause heads to turn while shopping at South Park Mall in Charlotte, all while wearing their eight-inch spiked heels, as men visualize capturing the prey before it gets away.
To all the men who love women in high heels, you ain’t seen nothing till you see 1200 women strutting around the track in gray knee length shorts or sweat pants, with stinky T-shirts and hair arranged on top of their heads. Unique and worn out running shoes have a way of instilling strength, dedication and perseverance. That’s sexy!
Nothing can replace the excitement and adrenaline I felt when I slipped on my first pair of running shoes at Alderson Federal Prison Camp.
Run like the wind, Gump…