This is another one of those posts I'm putting up just because I'm in NaBloPoMo and have to post something every day. Otherwise, I would be in bed with a book and a cup of tea. Who knows? Maybe it can be a meme, like the one where people photograph their bookshelves and post the photos online. I have too many bookshelves and this stupefying head cold, so instead, I'll show you my shoe door. I only have one shoe door. Then you can show me and the whole rest of the internet your shoes, too, if you want. They don't have to be on a shoe door.
In case you hadn't guessed, my shoe door is shown at right. It contains almost my whole shoe collection, everything except for my black boots and my rubber boots, and a few pairs of flat, white, virtually tractionless tennies I never wear anymore but keep out of nostalgia. This door became my shoe door by virtue of a nifty hanging organizer that I bought at The Container Store.
The top row contains my TUK Anarchic mary janes, both pairs. I don't wear the kitty-faced ones anymore because my darling Spot, my dear black cat, my sweetheart, my little black spot on the world, died suddenly at the age of fifteen in June 2005, and I haven't been able to wear anything that reminds me of him -- these shoes, for example, and a pair of ceramic black kitty head earrings a dear friend bought me long ago when he was still a kitten -- since. Makes me choke up and cry too much still, you see. Bad news while I'm driving or trying to conduct business out in the world with putatively normal, sane people.
Here's a closeup of those shoes, though. They really are wicked cute, as was Spot.
The mary janes next to these are black and have two pairs of silvertone buckles, one a pair of stars, and the other a pair of death's heads.
The next row down contains my two pairs of brown boots. I told you about the suede boots already. The other pair, the laceups, were waterproof until the soles cracked with age. I have not managed to get either pair to a shoe repair place for remediation, resuscitation, or recycling, as appropriate. I have fond memories of both, though, and no plans to throw them away until and unless a repair person tells me each is a hopeless case.
The next row contains my slippers, a pair of Acorn slippers, the coziest, comfiest slippers ever. I only wear one of them, because when I am wearing slippers I am probably not wearing my prosthetic leg and, even if I were, these aren't the best things to be wearing with it. It's not like Suzy Dress Me Walk Me (my prosthetic) can appreciate thick foam or polar fleece, and they have no traction to speak of. My prosthetic leg and foot far better appreciate the Tevas which share this row of the shoe door.
The next two rows are devoted to my four pairs of L. L. Bean Comfort Mocs. I have two each of the summer "ventilated" version and the winter nubuck suede version, four colors in all. These are excellent shoes for anyone who has to work on her feet, but also for diverse recreational activities year-round. They have excellent traction and arch support, and they also have nice thick soles.
After that, all that's left is the row of clogs. I have spoken of and shown you the Rockports previously in my Velcro® post. The other pair, the Merrells, are also the shoes I was wearing when I visited the DeCordova on October 1 of this year, and you can see them better in this photo:
So there it is, my shoe collection in all its fairly flat-soled glory, hanging in organized perfection for all the world to see.
I've shown you mine, now you show me yours. You know, if you want to.
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