Thanks for the soothing soles of Betsy Johnson! These amazing heels will relax any freaked out shoe girl! Photo by Jean Thornton.
In a rush to get to a Key West casual work meeting, I am in high alarm as I try to pull together an outfit to fit the occasion while not screaming ‘hussy’. While an appropriate top and skirt had been found, I am frantic as scan my shoe closet for the third time. On my cell phone a friend tries to ask me for insight about an upcoming event. Despite my interest in our conversation, I am lost and stammering over my own thoughts and words. Finally, I tell her I have to get off because I am having a shoe issue and we will have to pick this up later.
I throw myself onto the floor and pull out my under bed back-up shoe storage. With twenty-four additional pairs at my whim I still cannot find the pair that I feel completes my look. My shoe closet offers one hundred pairs lined on shelves, and all of these pairs are perfectly displayed supposedly to make shoe selection easy. Yet, my heart is racing as I search for the perfect shoe response to this fashion question…but no answer comes! As a cold sweat collects on my forehead I bite my lip, I have 110 pairs of shoes so even I can recognize the ridiculousness’ of my dilemma. There is a tingling in my fingers; generally when it comes to shoes my toes do the tingling.
The next thing I know I am laying on the bed; my left foot is in a gold Michael Kors’ pump, my right foot is in a Marc Jacobs’ slide. In one hand I clutch a wedge while I stare catatonically at the ceiling fan. It is not until my dog starts to lick my face that I return to reality again. I am now mere minutes from my meeting time, so I grab a pair of sling back platforms and hit the road. My choice, while perfectly acceptable, did not make me comfortable with my final decision, and my anxiety remained even after I was complimented on the fabulous heels.
As I start to relax later that night, I wonder what caused my inability to pick a pair of shoes. As someone with close to 125 pairs of shoes at my beck-and-call, I should not fall into a full-on shoe panic attack when planning a simple outfit for an everyday event. It was not that I did not have shoes to complement my style for the night, or that I did not know which shoes would look good. My shoe panic attack was induced by what causes so many panic attacks of any kind; not a fear of the unknown, but a fear of the known becoming lost.
Anyone who has studied for an exam only to completely go blank when handed the test understands this sensation. Suddenly every vocabulary term, every theory, every name goes out of your mind. You can feel the tears develop in the back of your eyes as the knot in your throat begins to form. The frustration is knowing that you have the information needed, but being unable to apply what is in your brain. Everything learned is stranded on a deserted island in that mind.
And that fear of never getting to the island essentially makes us question: Who will become if we cannot be who know we are? What if the masterful artist can no longer connect to his canvas, the doctor can no longer diagnosis, and the writer can no longer fill the page? What if who we are could truly be gone forever? And in that thought is where our panic is born, the actuality of the situation or not, the fear is real.
If I am not the Island Shoe Girl, who and what am I? The challenge is to answer this question not by running screaming into traffic wearing mismatched heels. The answer is to look at the other parts of my life that perhaps define me in ways unknown to others and me. Maybe I could be the girl that pairs the perfect handbag to the perfect skirt? Would being the woman with the incredible costume jewelry be as rewarding for a shoe girl in recovery?
Back to my near-death shoe crisis, I recognize that not trusting myself almost led to my wearing pirate rain boots to a beachside bar. I have to accept my own judgment before that of others and remember that my shoe style sense has made me the shoe girl I am today. I cannot allow shoe doubt or shoe shame to destroy who I am. While my shoe panic attack may not mean I give up my love of shoes for the fear that I will chose the wrong pair, it does remind me that at times I have to roll with the punches of life…
Wait a minute, roll…roller skates… that would totally go with this outfit!
Again … another fun piece!