The Island Shoe Girl's Blog

Where shoes meet sand…

Becoming Friends with Our Siblings March 28, 2010

Filed under: Common Sense in Unsensible Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 8:04 am
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My brothers may not be able to pick out shoes like I do but they know how to admire a good pair like these Steve Maddnens. Photo by Jean Thornton

Siblings—they are with us most of lives and share the unique experience of being from ‘the same tribe’, so to speak.  They know our family traditions, our secrets, and those horrific vacation car ride stories.   I have two older brothers, who in our youth did many of the things that brothers to do to their little sisters: painted my face brown with eye shadow, left me in hole in the backyard, and never let my Barbie hang out with G.I. Joe on his weekend leave.  I am sure that for every “mean big brother” story I have, they have an equal “strange little sister” story.  Although how a little sister who wore sunglasses, white gloves, and drank juice from wine glasses can be called “strange” is beyond me.  

Over the years my brothers and I have grown and moved away from home; we no longer have to fight over the television every night or bicker about hogging the bathroom.  Nevertheless, every now and then during a holiday gathering, a remote control wrestling match can still break out.   One of my older brothers gave me an Avett Brother’s c.d. this past Christmas which quickly became a main fixture in my car,  The lyrics were incredible and made me think that, if he was right about this c.d., perhaps he could be right about other things too.  So, I ended up reading a recommended book about Abraham Lincoln (spoiler alert: the third act ends with a bang).  Again, I was impressed with my brother’s recommendation.

It got me thinking about how I viewed both of my brothers, since it has been years since I was last held in headlock by one of them.  Perhaps it was time re-think my labels of “mean big brother.”   Somewhere in the past 16 years or so my brothers became adults who have careers, have opinions about politics, own homes, and soon will be starting families of their own.  And I guess I am also becoming an adult…if you count my shoes as children—which I do.  While we still share the same overlapping childhood experiences and traditions common only to us, we have also each developed our own individual traits and beliefs. 

The Avett Brother’s c.d. my brother gave me has a great line that goes, “I wanna have friends that love me for the man that I am not the man that I was.”  Something in that lyric reminds me of how I feel about my brothers now.  I think siblings everywhere could agree that there is a love among those who share the joys and the pains of growing up under one roof.  But perhaps the true measure of a sibling is when we become friends with them—not because of the childhood memories but because of who we are as adults.  We love our siblings because when we broke our arm and couldn’t swim all summer they tried to cheer us up; we are friends with them because of the way they chase their dreams even when those dreams seem almost impossible to catch.  We are friends with them because they are the type of people who take the time to help a young person reach their own dreams.   It is these things that make us admire our siblings. 

Yes, I can look past the times my brothers told me scary stories about gorillas in my closet or wouldn’t let me play video games with them and instead appreciate that now I can turn to them at the end of the day, whether it’s a good or bad day, for support.  My siblings—I love them because they are part of me in every way from DNA to all the memories that I value most.  But I am friends with my siblings because they impress me with the people they have become…even if one of them did give me Crocs one Christmas.

 

Things More Important Than Shoes March 21, 2010

Filed under: Love Me, Love My Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 10:09 am
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A well rounded shoe girl has many elements just like these awesome Steve Madden Wedges. Photo by Jean Thornton

In my constant quest for the next great pair of shoes, others often tell me I have more than enough.  If the world intended me to have only five pairs then it would not offer me so many options and varieties; thus, I am simply a product of my environment! 

Good excuse, huh?  I do sense at times that my shoe extravagance may cause others to believe that I value my shoes above all else.  The nagging look in their eyes asks the question I know they are holding back, “Do you know there are things more important than shoes in life?”  Yes, I do know there are more important things in life than shoes. 

There are things more important than shoes. There is family and mine is far more valuable than shoes.  I have parents who loved their children long before we were ever physical parts of their lives.  They saved and sacrificed for us when we our lives were only dreams of first steps, graduations, and the ways we would change the world.  They loved and still love me enough to let me walk my own path even when it is far from them; they even let me do it in un-sensible shoes.   My two older brothers were cursed with one of the crazier little sisters they might ever have to watch out for.  It was their task to know when to protect me and, most importantly, to know when to let me face reality. This surely has been one of the greatest challenges of their lives.  And the wonderful women they have exposed to both their sister’s critical eye and her sharp tongue have decided to stick around anyway and marry them. 

I know that friendship is more important than shoes.  My friends know I would give up every last heel if I thought for a moment that it could give them every joyful moment they could want in life.  To value a friend so much that they know—despite how much you dread it—you will even put on a bridesmaid dress for them.  A friendship is only half of what it can be when you say that your friend will always be there for you.  It is when you are privileged to actually BE there for that friend that you experience the full capacity of friendship.  When your friend seeks and takes your advice and encouragement because they trust you so fully for the sole reason that you have proven yourself and they have forgotten any time you were ever wrong. 

There are careers that are more important in life than shoes.  I am not talking about a job that makes you successful but when you make that job a success.  That desire in life not to make a paycheck, but to make others see that this job makes the world a better place.  The personal desire and realization that while we hope to always be more than our title, it is also important for us to feel that our title is more than something we just “do” the majority of our life.  There surely are more important things to life than our jobs, yet we cannot discredit the value it does give our lives and we should never apologize for knowing it.  

Of course there are people who out rank shoes.  I do not mean that there are a select group of people who deserve the title of ‘important’.  As a result of my job it has been both a blessing and a challenge that I get to see the value in every person—even those who society has told they are not of value.  It can be unbearably frustrating to see the good in someone when few others see it, often times even that person the good is in.  It can be gut wrenching to know that, while the good in someone can never truly be lost, it can be unrecognized and unnoticed as if it never existed.   

There are things more important in life than shoes, but my shoes also have a place and value beyond what they appear to offer.  While all these things are extremely dear and important to me, there is often little I can do to totally protect them.  Shoes I can put in a closet and ensure that at the end of the night they are safe and sound.  There is no closet large enough for me to lock away family, friends, career and people.  If I could somehow find a way to protect these things from the real and imagined threats and fears of serious illness or injury, bad days, budget cuts, and monsters that go bump in the night, shoes may not provide such a comfort for me.

After all is said and done we all have some luxury item we cherish that others may not exactly understand.  Whether that is hundreds of shoes, a collection of records begun in childhood, the vintage car restored with care, or a scrapbook hobby, they are the things we can check on at the end of the day.  So when I take one last look at my shoe closet every night as I head towards bed, I may be checking to make sure all those silly shoes are lined up and in their place.  I can only watch over and protect the things I can keep in a closet, but I can hope that God is watching out for all the things I find more important than shoes that do not fit in a closet. 

 

Mr. Right in the Right Shoes March 14, 2010

Filed under: Love Me, Love My Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 8:34 am
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Until I find Mr. Right I will keep wearing the right shoes like these Steve Madden's. Photo by Jean Thornton

I was reading an article by an author who has previously told women to settle for Mr. Good Enough so life won’t pass them by without a diamond ring.  In her latest article she advises women to rethink the qualities they look for in a man.  According to her, women put too much stock in a man’s height, his job, and his age in addition to whether a woman’s likes and dislikes actually match up or what is listed in his online dating profile… Aha!  It’s all so clear now—perhaps our writer is a disgruntled executive of an online dating service concerned that so many single women still date without a blackberry. 

I was puzzled by this article because it assumes that I am basing my search for Mister Right on the same philosophy of matching artwork with my sofa.  Nope! He doesn’t go with my personal décor, so toss him aside.   Maybe it was her shallow requirements that caused her to settle for Mr. Good Enough in her earlier article.  Call me old-fashioned but isn’t the ultimate determining factor in finding Mr. Right that special ‘feeling’ you get?  Isn’t it the indescribable, seldom scientifically documented whoosh of za-za-zsu that most of us dream of, not his compatibility with the height of my heels.  So what if I’m a little taller?

Since I have never fallen in love with Mr. Right—or Mr. Wrong either—it’s hard for me to speak with any authority on the subject.  But when it comes to falling in love with (and sometimes falling off) shoes I have plenty of experience and can personally say it is all about feeling when it comes to finding the right pair of shoes.  So I will offer the only head-over-heels experience, both figuratively and literally, that I can. 

I fall in love with shoes a lot, which a glance at my overflowing shoe closet clearly illustrates.  If you look at the shoes you will surely find many similarities.  I am a sucker for heels and seldom connect with a flat.  But I wear stilettos, pumps, wedges and platforms with constant variety; I guess I shoe around with a lot of types of heels.  From pencil-thin points to chunky, I don’t ever judge on such characteristics and never would I toss aside a pair based solely on one aspect of physical appearance. 

When it comes to price points, I have designer names that range from the affordably chic to the equivalent of a mortgage payment.  Some of my favorites are shockingly less expensive than their lesser-admired but more costly counterparts.  It’s nice every now and then to be surprised by a pair on either ends of the cost spectrum; after all; value is on the foot of the beholder!  Of course classic styles of years past and new trends from the runway can go hand and hand, so never be afraid to try a retro style or a fresh-faced one. 

I seldom buy a shoe to complete an outfit or because it matches my life perfectly.  Instead I prefer to find a shoe that adds a new element to my style.  The best shoes can inspire us to see things differently and maybe even be a little more daring when we kick up our heels.  These just might be the shoes that put a spring in our step or allows us to show sides of ourselves that might have remained hidden. 

But the one thing you won’t know just by looking at my collection is the way each and every one of those shoes makes me feel.  It was love the first time my toes slid inside every heel and it’s still that za-za-zsu feeling when I put them on time and time again.  When I walk into a room, others know that the pair I am wearing was destined for me—it could even be said they were made for me.  These observers acknowledge how we go together; and even though they may admire my shoes, it doesn’t necessarily mean they would wear them—it just wouldn’t be the same feeling. 

It might sound silly to compare love for another human being with love for shoes, but I am not settling for a shoe that doesn’t make me feel amazing and I won’t settle for a guy that doesn’t either.  Just as every new shoe is appealing and attractive in its own way, I hope that when I fall for that perfect guy it’s because he is perfect in his own way too.  When it comes to finding Mr. Right, I hope it’s as easy as knowing I have found the right shoes.  Sure, it might take a little breaking-in, and I am sure there will be a little bit of hurt along the way.  But when it feels right, you make it work and you love that shoe even when it gets a little scuff mark here and there—the same as you keep on loving Mr. Right when he gets a little worn with age.

 

Standing on Shoe Principles March 7, 2010

Filed under: Its All About the Shoes — theislandshoegirl @ 9:13 am
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When quiting a job make sure you put your best Kors forward out the door. Photo by Jean Thornton

There are not many opportunities to stand up for what we believe in anymore.  The chances to ‘seize the day’ are restricted by the notes in our day planners and post-it notes of things to do stuck across our desks.  Jumping blindly into the future without a safety net and 6 months salary in the savings account is frowned upon by every financial adviser from Susie Orman to the psychic hotline. 

As a society we have been brow-beaten into believing that there is no good reason to take a risk right now… so maybe we just have to create a good reason. I recently had the opportunity to stand up for my shoe principles and to make a decision that, while financially impractical, is personally essential.  Like purchasing a pair of off-limits designer heels, the costs may be high but the rewards are greater.   

When faced with the employment dilemma during a recession it may be best to err on the side of caution and do what is necessary to keep my checkbook balance in the black.  I hold several employment titles—some, like full-time case manager pay the bills, some like Island Shoe Girl feed the ego, and some like my hostess job pay the shoe debt I am continually acquiring.  The latter started as a way to help cover the incidentals that come with purchasing a home.  Three years ago it was a big help when I was dreaming of hardwood floors, pedestal sinks, and sofas that were not found on the curb. 

I stuck with that job long after the moving expenses because I liked my managers and the people I worked with.  As far as second jobs go, hosting at a relaxed Key West restaurant that happens to be owned by a famous singer is a pretty good gig.   The job had its perks too—a laid back attitude, occasional run-ins with celebrities, and a free meal here and there.  Yes, for the first year it was a very good gig…and then corporate came in.  Now without naming names, let’s just say it kind of went against our namesake’s image to suddenly have a ‘corporate handbook’ complete with uniform regulations.  Gone were the days of casual Key West style paired with my heels ‘du jour’ and ushered in was an era of nametags, embroidered polo tee shirts, and—oh yes!—a  pin system! 

All of these changes were things I could deal with.  What I couldn’t deal with was the systematic removal of the true ‘life’ of the restaurant… our staff and managers.  One by one they fell.  Servers here and there, a bartender now and then, and last were the managers.  Soon this was not the restaurant I had signed up to work at.  The problem was I still worked just as hard.  Despite the regulations, I still found a way to be The Island Shoe Girl.  While the employee handbook spelled out non-skid white tennis shoes…it did not specify the height.  Maybe I stretched the absence of that detail, but when I found a pair of Michael Kors 4-inch wedge white tennis shoes with gold trim on the clearance rack, I closed the rule book and broke the budget to make them mine. 

The arrival of my rule-stretching tennis shoe/wedges came at the same time as a new corporate manager.  A woman in desperate need of a good shoe intervention, she was not impressed with my interpretation of the rules.  I can understand her jealousy; after all, she appeared to only have one pair of heels and they were brown and well worn.  I have nightmares about having to wear those shoes!  The problem was she couldn’t get rid of me for missed shifts or poor customer service.  Since being a hostess is not rocket science, I did my job exceptionally well.  It was only a mater of time until she told me my shoes did not meet the corporate expectations. 

When given the choice between a part-time job and shoes, I chose the shoes.  Is it silly to leave a job because it interferes with my fashion— yes.  But this was not about fashion alone.  This was about standing up for my belief that if I do what is asked and work hard the height of a heel shouldn’t be held against me.  This was about knowing when I have compromised enough.  And while a job doesn’t have to be fun, it shouldn’t drain the fun out of my own personality.  

Faced with a chance to actually stand up for something, especially when that something is myself (and my shoes) it felt really good to actually be able to do it.  I may have walked out that day a slightly unemployed hostess (considering I still had a full-time job) but I also walked out a full-fledged shoe girl.  And while I will miss the extra money that helped justify shoe purchases, I got something better than a paycheck.  I got to stand up for my shoe principles.  

While I am sure they could easily fill my hostess position, I could not replace my shoe principles.  Every now and then we have to stand up for our shoes and ourselves.  It’s nice to live the dream—it’s even better when you can do it in a designer pair of wedges that break a rule or two.

 

 
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