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Last night my husband and I had what he called a "shoe party". It was not nearly as fun as it sounds, mostly because it involved tossing out sad, old shoes that we don't wear anymore. Or in my case those shoes that I buy with the best intentions and just never wear, like that pair of patent red pumps, or the pixie pirate boots. I should really know better! As we were sorting our shoes into "keep" and "toss" piles the husband came across the above shoes. Now most people would take one look at these shoes, which are no longer safe to wear in the rain due to the gaping holes , and promptly throw them in the trash. However, my wonderful, understanding husband gave me a grin and put them into my "keep" pile without even asking. It's just that these shoes are my absolute favorite shoes and he knows it. I don't wear them that often anymore but when I do put them on it's like reconnecting with an old friend, it's like not a day has past since we last spoke. They're special, I guess for some reason or another. I bought them right after my daugther was born and they're the shoes I wore every day when we first moved to Chicago. For some reason these shoes were the only ones that I could wear that didn't make my feet scream with agony after the hike to the train and back every day. At some point after the holes devloped I actually bought a replacement pair that still look brand new because they've only been worn a few times. They just didn't hold a candle to the original pair.
Short story long, this got me to thinking about shoes. Most of my shoes I can recall exactly where I bought them and where I was in my life at the time. They all have some sort of sentimental value and are all hard to get rid of. So, I'm wondering if everyone has this attachment to their shoes. Do you have a favorite pair that should have been thrown away but you just can't bear to? What are your favorite shoes and why? I want to hear your shoe stories!
Things have been busy here... Hectic work hours followed by lots of hours of crafting. I'll have loads of pretty things to show you starting next week. I've been cranking out fabric designs, ideas for new prints and more. We're heading to Iowa for the weekend to spend some much needed time with our families and celebrate the multiple June birthdays. I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend and I'll be back next week with goodies. For now, here's a few random polaroids, Enjoy!
Summer reminds me of Polaroids. When I was a kid I spent a lot of summers at Grandma Ruby's and in the slow, sticky summer Missourri heat, there wasn't much to do besides loll around in the plastic kiddie pool drinking kool-aid. Somewhere in the background I can hear my aunt Retha humming to herself, flitting around Grandma's garden like a busy worker bee snapping Polaroids. That distinctive whirring of film being spit out is punctuated by the catydids and the stillness of the air. I wonder what's so fascinating about Grandma's garden that warrants so many pictures. "Kayanna, come look at my pretty pictures." I relunctantly leave the semi-cool water of the pool and trudge over to see the little mountain of polaroids. Retha grins and points, so proud of her little gallery. They're no materpieces and in fact far from perfect. A finger half obscures one, Grandma is hunched over weeding the lettuce in another, her head missing, another showcases blurry flowers, and there's me, lounging in my bright blue pool. As a kid I didn't appreciate what these pictures meant, what they stood for. But now, as an adult looking back I'm amazed at how my aunt was able to see such beauty in such mundane things, how she could slow time down and see the world for what it really is. I desperately wish I could go back and look through that stack of polaroids again through adult eyes, I wish I could appreciate her telling me to "Hold still and 'Say Cheese'" every summer with that camera so proudly draped around her neck. It makes me so sad to think that in a year no one will be able to have these memories of impulsive, imperfect pictures that have more soul and more life than any digital version. So, for the next year, or until it truly is gone, I'm going to take some time each week to slow down and take things in at Polaroid speed.
