It's All About the Shoes

There is something about this wedding. Everything is happening so smoothly. Kids, the universe is on our side. A miracle has occurred.

I found shoes.

I know. I can hardly believe it myself. Honestly, I thought I would have to go barefoot. See, when it comes to dress shoes, I have a very small number of options. They have to be flat or have a very low heel. They have to have a closed toe and a closed heel, and they have to have a strap. Basically, I need a Mary Jane. This would be fine if I was a 6 year old, or if it was 1940, but find this type of shoe for a young woman on her wedding day? I thought it would be impossible. At least if I wanted something attractive. Apparently, anyone needing a practical shoe must do away with any thoughts of being fashionable, let alone age appropriate.

I had reasons to be cynical. I am after all, 28 and this isn’t my first go at finding dress shoes. In high school, I had one pair of dress shoes. A modified Mary Jane with a 1 inch heel. These shoes were perfect, but dad had to punch an extra hole in the strap to make them fit and they took almost fifteen minutes to buckle. They were practical and pretty blah, but they got me through most of my dances. After several years of use I had to throw those out because of the holes I had wore in the toes. This is not a new thing either. Some of my favorite shoes have been victims of my dragging feet. The butterfly converse I had when I was 6 and the blue old school sketchers I had when I was 16 are the most notable. I really miss those shoes.

At my father’s wedding when I was 16, I also wore an ivory dress. While my twin and stepsisters got to wear cute strappy sandals. I was stuck wearing these hand me down flats with a pointed toe. For the record I loathe pointed toe shoes. If you wear them I will judge you, If made to wear them I will cry. Who the heck thought shoes should come to a point anyway? No one’s toes do that. Unless of course they wear them so much that their foot starts to deform. (Stephy, ahem.) I digress. In the late nineties the flat foot pointed toed style was just about as unpopular as flannels are today. I was mortified to have to wear them, and to make matters worse, the stupid shoes would not stay on and I had to hobble down the aisle with about 200 people watching while I prayed to every God I had ever heard of that the damn things would stay on, because if they didn’t there was no way I would be able to get it on again by myself.

At my cousins wedding earlier this year, I tried a trendy little pair of sling backs, but no matter how tight the strap my heel kept coming off the back causing my pinky toe to be crammed against the side of the shoe. The next morning, I had a blister so big that I could not put the back on and my sister had to carry me across the driveway. I am not willing to pay that high a price for fashion.

Obviously, not being big a masochist of any sort, I did not want to repeat any of these experiences on my wedding day nor did I want to spend 50 dollars or more on matronly looking, boring, shoes that I would never want to wear again. With my luck I’d keep them for posterity and my future children, finding no suitable alternatives, would have me buried in them; and I’d be stuck with them for all eternity. No. I simply could not let that happen. These shoes had to fit each of my requirements and they had to be cute. For once in my life I told myself that I would not settle.

After a few days of googling every synonym for “ivory bridal flats” I could think of and scrolling through pages of ballet flats and sandals, the ivory colored pointy toed Mary Janes with the pointy toe were starting to look like a reasonable choice.

That’s when the universe smiled up on me and presented me with the perfect shoe.

Oh Sketchers, why didn’t I think of you sooner? In high school you offered me the only shoe in the world that would fit over my leg braces, in college your stylish Velcro saved me from falling over while trying to try my laces and also from getting dangling untied laces wound up in my wheels. It seems obvious that you would be the one to bring me that perfect wedding shoe!

Sure it’s a sneaker, but who would notice under all that cuteness? And the rubber soles will keep any bride from taking that fatal plunge of the dance floor, well except maybe me, but at least the shoes won’t be to blame.