My Inner Imelda Marcos

So what is it with women and shoes, anyway?

I never had that shoe fetish. As a kid, I had sneakers and flip-flops, though it was hard to get me in any kind of footwear at all, most of the time. I'd spend entire summers barefoot if my parents let me.

As a teen, when most girls were begging Daddy for money for the latest trends, I had sneakers (hightops, of course; it was the 80s after all), flip-flops, and three different-colored pairs of Keds. And I still went barefoot quite a bit. Not a lot of variety in the shoe department... believe it or not, I'd decided that turquoise L.A. Gears went with anything. Did I mention it was the 80s?

Then I had to get a pair of boots for riding. I also retired the L.A. Gears in favor of Converse All-Stars during one of their many fashion revivals. Turquoise, naturally. I still had not owned a pair of leather sandals or high heels.

Moving on, I switched to boots. Black motorcycle boots for hanging out, black combat boots for casual days, and black cowboy boots for dancing. It was a strange time... At one point I had a pair of suede knee-high lace-ups for "formal wear." Yes, you read that right.

Eventually I had to break down and buy heels. There were weddings to attend and functions where black boots weren't quite the expected mode of dress. I had the same pair of heels for years... and when they wore out, I bought another pair just like them. I also gave up the motorcycle boots for clunky black Oxfords. I'd pretty much given up on color at this point; everything I owned was black or grey, except t-shirts and one dress for the abovementioned occasions.

Today, I spend working hours in leather hiking shoes, Gore-Tex'd and waterproofed. For all other times I own five pairs of leather sandals, three pairs of glorified flip-flops, four pairs of heels, one good set of sneakers and one grubby set, the old standby combat boots, hunting (snow) boots, rubber ones for work, slip-ons for running next door to the store, and a great pair of black square-toed "witch shoes" I wear at Halloween. Plus boat shoes, fuzzy cow slippers, and a throwback pair of grey-and-black Acme cowboy boots from the Salvation Army in case I ever get the mad urge to line-dance again (hasn't happened yet, but if it does I'm prepared).

To top it all off, Boscov's had an incredible sale this past weekend. I'm feeling a little guilty, but who could resist name-brand shoes for 12 bucks? What I'm trying to figure out is when the Imelda Syndrome hit me. From a shoe-fashion disaster to a closet heel-hound... I never thought it would happen to me.

Ironically enough, when I left Boscov's the first thing I did was take my shoes off, stick them in the bag with the new ones, and walk across the parking lot barefoot. Some things never change.