Commentary: The Sole-Search: Why I love Shoes

HOST:

From Imelda Marcos to Carrie Bradshaw, women all over the world seem to have an dubious obsession with shoes. Commentator Hanna Klingberg is one of the worst.

KLINGBERG:

There’s this gorgeous pair of pumps I’ve had my eye on for months. They’re bright red suede leather with a three and a half inch heel. And they’re really expensive. But I want them. I love them. Because I. Love. Shoes.

My first love was a pair of pale yellow lace-up sneakers. I was three years old. And they were the coolest shoes ever. The right one had this little pocket on the side, just large enough for a  money – I didn’t have any money – I just knew that if I ever got hold of some big money, I could keep it in my shoe. But that day never came. Because my precious, yellow sneakers were suddenly shorter than my feet. I remember waving a teary-eyed goodbye to them as my mom unceremoniously shoved them in the evil give-away bag. And I swore I would not let my feet grow another inch. So today… I wear a size ten.

As a teenager I hated buying clothes. Back then H&M was all the rage. I remember going to the mall with my friends for the launch of their youth collection. I was fourteen, both in age and size. But the collection, appropriately named Divided, capped at size 12. There I was, too fat for fashion – they should put that on a size 14 t-shirt – and so I turned to shoes. Because the shoes always fit.

Actually, that’s a size 14 lie. The shoes would have fit if I had bought the right ones. But somehow I always end up with shoes that are half a size too small. Like the boots I bought on my school trip in the tenth grade. Man, they were… Let’s just say they were the epitome of Y2K fashion: Long, black and shiny with a clunky three-inch heel, and made from a material so synthetic I’m lucky they didn’t spontaneously combust. But I loved those boots. And I wore them with pride. For about five minutes. And then with excruciating agony for the next five hours. I was at a garden party. My friends played boccia. I sat on a bench. My friends danced. I sat on a bench. But in the end I had to get up, and with no buses around and no money for a cab, I had to walk the one mile home. And so I did. In my pantyhose. Blisters 1, pride 0. BTW, do you know how much broken glass there is on the sidewalk? I do.

You’d think that episode would have taught me something. But I still manage to buy shoes that are half a size too small. However, my feet have shrunk. Because I’ve lost weight. In fact, I’m a size twelve now. And the other day, I went to H&M and tried on a dress from their youth collection. And it fit! But I didn’t buy it. I couldn’t. ‘Cause I just spent a big money on a pair of red pumps.

BACKANNOUNCE:

Hanna Klingberg says her long black uncomfortable boots ended up in a not so-evil give-away bag.

 

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