I have big feet.
Come to think of it, I have always had big feet. My feet did not feel the need to coordinate with the rest of my body when they grew to a solid size 10 before the rest of my body had even considered sprouting in any direction. Upwards of five years of my adolescence was spent flopping around on my feet like a scuba diver navigating a dry beach in flippers. What a whirlwind of trips and tumbles those were! Looking back at images of myself in those days I have to laugh because, at certain angles, it looks as though some jokester transposed someone else’s monster feet onto my own tiny body. Sadly for me, the jokester was my creator. Writing this now in my twenty seventh year, I have clocked in a few vertical inches and my feet do not taunt me as much from this distance. That is until I try to dress them. Shoe shopping has come to be one of those things I put off until I can visibly see the earth through the bottom of my current pair. I am utterly befuddled by the people who dress ‘around their shoes’. Meaning they choose the perfect pair of shoes for the day and coordinate the rest of their outfit around them. Why on earth would I want to begin my day on such a low note?
It’s bad enough that I have to wear anything on them at all.
I am at the shoe store. I enviably walk through the racks and racks of adorable shoes meant to fit those sweet little size 6-8 tootsies. They sparkle and glisten, fully secure with their respectable yardage. The girls trying on these shoes are happy, no, ECSTATIC, to be here. They slide into each pair and prance around in front of the mirror admiring the proportionality of their physique. Out of habit, I continue walking to the very back of the shoe section where they hide the contents of my selection. The stores are embarrassed for me. Out of kindness they know that I do not want to be taunted or even noticed while I fumble around back there.
The shoe companies really give it the ol’ college try but ultimately epically fail at trying to make their shoe designs translate to sizes above the realm of 9.5. At that point it’s really just about making the feet less noticeable. My feet do not wish to be adorned in rhinestones and gold-plating and straps and sharp heels. They do not wish to be propped up on epic platforms or crammed into a pointy toe. Personally, I just want to stop tripping over the damn things! Perhaps someone could produce a line of shoes that blends into the flooring like a chameleon? Or maybe an optical illusion that makes the feet look like size 8 feet? Or even better, a shoe that aides my feet in a growth reversal process (minus the pain of foot binding)? I don’t know, I’m really just thinking aloud.
This post has been a long-winded way to say that I feel bad about my feet. Really really bad about them.