To buy shoes is always an ordeal. For some, overwhelming wanting has turned shoes into cultural legend. But not for me; to find shoes that fit is task enough. Each year or two, after my old pair could bear no more the abuses of the schoolyard. I stared down at my feet, they look pretty normal. The salesman returned, arms full of shoe-boxes. Here we go again.
I had but one pair of shoes, sneakers. I cringe as I watch cute black dresses limp along on legs that if not for their jilted stride and a veiled grimace would be sexy-long.