“Guess what?” I said. ”I did an inventory of my shoes and guess what I found.”

He leaned back in the patio chair and gave me the look. “That you have too many shoes?”

I returned the look. Can a woman ever have too many shoes?

“No,” I said, “I found that most of them are the same brand.”

I paused for emphasis. I wanted what I said next to sink in.

“I’ve been buying comfort and I had no idea I was buying the same line of shoes.”

He studied me as if actually digesting what I’d just said. I knew better.

But no matter. Since I picked the profession that I did and hit hospital floors running many moons ago, I have been after comfortable shoes. Walking, running, 12 to 14 hours straight on those hard, unforgiving floors was not exactly a recipe for foot pampering. Now adding, ahem, a certain amount of years, plus RA/RD, comfortable, supportive shoes have moved from a want to a definite must have.

On this particular day, I’d been to see the optometrist. I’d decided my eyes needed some TLC after the bad news I’d received at the ophthalmologist. I ended up spending the equivalent of a month’s grocery money on two pairs of glasses, reading and distance. I didn’t want to deal with the whole learning curve thing required with bifocals, and why put that up-and-down-bobbing strain on my neck?

We’d met at The Cheesecake Factory for dinner after my appointment. I had a two-hour wait before the glasses would be ready so we hit Macy’s. He wanted a shirt and I headed for the shoe dept. Because I have two upcoming trips to cold weather country, I wanted a closed shoe with a heel, a shoe that was a cross between a low boot and a clog. And of course it wouldn’t hurt if the shoes looked good and made me feel like I looked good

But the main criteria the shoes had to meet was that they be out-of-the-box comfortable. When I found the cushiony softness I sought, I was not surprised to find that they were Clarks®. I was, after all, wearing buttery-soft (or as they call it: “marshmallow-soft”) leather sandals of the same brand. I kept them on, placed my sandals in the box and went to give the man some money.

This “coincidence” prompted me to investigate my shoe collection when I got home. I was curious as to what was left in the closet after I’d given away several pairs of shoes that were still fairly new. And the reason they were only slightly worn is because they’d failed to provide the comfort level I craved and needed.

Halfway through my nursing career I’d given up the white shoes and wore black. And even though those were more stylish, they were still work shoes. My feet have taken a beating over the years and today, when comfort is even more of a priority, I don’t want to have to resort to wearing “work” shoes again.

I want/demand style. Style reminiscent of my twenties when I sailed through life in clogs and jeans. That reminds me, I need more jeans. For the trips, you know.

and have some fun!

Ready to kick up my heels