I decided today that the UPS delivery guy must be convinced that we either have our own shoe store, or that I'm married to a millipede.
I've written before in this column about the inexplicable differences between men and women; you would think that after many years of marriage, actually to the same woman, I'd have a better understanding of the female's habits.
Does the term "fat chance" ring a bell?
I can look back and find a lot of reasons to criticize the authoritarian regime of Ferdinand Marcos in the Philippines, but I can't help but wonder that his indulgence in behaviors like bribery, embezzlement and racketeering might not have been prompted in part by Imelda's propensity-or more accurately perhaps, addiction-for buying shoes.
Imelda was said to have had 1,200 pairs of shoes at one time, a staggering number to be sure. I've not counted my wife's shoes-I'm half-afraid to-but I do know I've installed shoe racks, and more shoe racks, in her walk-in closet, and I think there will be more shelves in my future.
To be fair, she went through an ordeal with her broken leg, and she is trading in some of the old stiletto spiked heels for something a little less tippy, and the Children's Hospital Thrift Shop is the recipient of some pretty fashionable castoffs that should help their cause, yet I'm still perplexed by a woman's need for so many pairs of shoes.
Guys seem to get by, in general, with one pair each of dress shoes, one black and one brown, and probably worn twice-when they got married and when they get buried. Include a pair of casual loafers, again one in each of the basic colors and, of course, at least one pair of those pinnacles of fashion, jogging shoes; by my count that's about five pairs of shoes.
Throw in a pair of boots-Western, biker, or whatever image floats your boat-and we're up to six pairs, not counting true athletic shoes like ski boots or golf shoes.
The truth is, I have a few more than that; I have some patent leather ones for the tux I've worn twice in my life, and I have a few others that my wife has either encouraged me to buy, or that I bought at the Nordstrom Rack out of boredom while she went through every-and I do mean every-shoe in the place.
I've helped her look for shoes in that size, usually in frustration for having already spent several hours looking at shoes and trying to expedite the process just a little.
Okay, I have to defend her once more, or at least repeat her defense for buying all these shoes: she has small feet, really small feet. She wears, depending on the style, a size-5 shoe. Size-5 shoes are harder to find than a Republican with something good to say about Bill Clinton. She says that, whenever she's able to find shoes in her size, she must buy them.
Will I ever understand the need for so many shoes? Probably not, but I'm resigned to the fact that in her mind this is a categorical imperative. I know it makes her happy to see row after row after row of shoes in her closet. And if she's happy, chances are I'll be happy.
What's more, I have to admit that it's a pretty impressive display of color in that closet. I had no idea there were so many different hues of pink and blue-not to mention glazed ginger, ruby wine, atmosphere, gloxinia, moss, nutmeg and pumpkin spice. Who knew "atmosphere" was a color?
The good news is that I've become pretty darn good at building shoe racks, and with just a little more work I can knock out a wall and add a room onto our house-to store the next UPS delivery.[[In-content Ad]]
