I, too, am purging my younger self's shoes and boots and not buying any if I can't wiggle my toes or feel support under my arches. I'm giving away these old friends reluctantly as they hold memories of where they were purchased, and with whom, and where they were worn. Bonus: The closet looks better and my feet don't hurt.
I agree, wholeheartedly. I love my old high, high beautiful heels. I wonder if we could all take our gorgeous shoes and make a sign in the sand as they did Ocean Beach today
I wear a size 10 shoe and have been culling the beautiful but never-to-be -worn again pairs. Yes, joining and maintaining a place in the resistance takes prudence in choosing footwear. Thanks for sharing.
I am now down to wearing my faithful dansko clogs, Taos sandals and the occasional La Canadienne boot, so I understand how stunning it is to find oneself in this phase of life.
Feet aside, I have been searching for a way to describe how I have been feeling due to the chaos that has descended on this country over the past decade. I usually end up saying
"No Words, just No Words"
You just provided me with the words in the sentences below.
"On one side of my head, quite close to my ear, is an ogre brandishing a pair of cymbals. He is banging them together as loud as he can. And on the other side, quite close to the other ear, there’s a sadist who won’t stop shaking a pair of maracas"
I wonder if I will ever go back to hearing the sounds of a cello and violin.
Oh, I SO feel your foot pain. But am not allowed (by self) to complain bcz fine Kaiser surgeon at least de-hammered my toe enough for me to continue taking to the streets w Indivisible & friends and otherwise walking the daily few miles. As to the cacophony of evildoings everywhere, we just have to keep fighting w every available weapon: calls, emails, Activate America cards, ACLU donations . . . neighborhood fundraisers. Good luck!
After a lifetime in SF, I’m now retired to Portland with The Frogs. I’m also my father’s daughter: a news junkie. He read the Chronicle every morning, the Examiner every evening, and the combined Sunday edition. Plus he watched Cronkite and KTVU. Now these little handheld devices make it all the easier to get a fix.
Hey Leah - I might be one of the aforementioned friends on news siesta. Eek! I resemble that remark. But I reassure you that I'm not totally out of touch. I regularly ask friends what's going on in the news and hear their touching reports rather than the NYT version. Memorably I was at a fancy restaurant on my own, sitting at the bar having some skewers and a beer. I noticed that the people next to me were having a conversation about politics, so I introduced myself and told them of my approach to news. I asked them if they would tell me what had been happening. It was the day after the second ICE murder in Minneapolis, so they told me about it. I was devastated and so were they. Complete strangers, we ended up connected, touching and sharing words of kindness. I will always remember them and I am guessing they will remember me, the odd guy in the restaurant, and the sad moment we shared together.
Fabulous writing, Leah. So good to hear your voice. Sorry about your feet. I hope you sell a lot of shoes for the good people of Minneapolis.
Morals and wit, the perfect Leah combination my soul has been missing. Thank you for stepping into the small limelight again.
I, too, am purging my younger self's shoes and boots and not buying any if I can't wiggle my toes or feel support under my arches. I'm giving away these old friends reluctantly as they hold memories of where they were purchased, and with whom, and where they were worn. Bonus: The closet looks better and my feet don't hurt.
Quite a feet. Full of soul.
Bless you Leah, comforting and inspiring words.
I agree, wholeheartedly. I love my old high, high beautiful heels. I wonder if we could all take our gorgeous shoes and make a sign in the sand as they did Ocean Beach today
I wear a size 10 shoe and have been culling the beautiful but never-to-be -worn again pairs. Yes, joining and maintaining a place in the resistance takes prudence in choosing footwear. Thanks for sharing.
Georgia O'Keeffe is a far superior style icon than Cher, at any age. Stand tall in your "vintage" elegance!
I am now down to wearing my faithful dansko clogs, Taos sandals and the occasional La Canadienne boot, so I understand how stunning it is to find oneself in this phase of life.
Feet aside, I have been searching for a way to describe how I have been feeling due to the chaos that has descended on this country over the past decade. I usually end up saying
"No Words, just No Words"
You just provided me with the words in the sentences below.
"On one side of my head, quite close to my ear, is an ogre brandishing a pair of cymbals. He is banging them together as loud as he can. And on the other side, quite close to the other ear, there’s a sadist who won’t stop shaking a pair of maracas"
I wonder if I will ever go back to hearing the sounds of a cello and violin.
Thank you for writing this !
p.s... I do remember those stunning boots !
Fasciitis sounds too much like fascist. You don’t deserve authoritarian foot pain. Good luck selling those shoes and welcome back to the sidewalk.
Welcome back. We have missed you.
Oh, I SO feel your foot pain. But am not allowed (by self) to complain bcz fine Kaiser surgeon at least de-hammered my toe enough for me to continue taking to the streets w Indivisible & friends and otherwise walking the daily few miles. As to the cacophony of evildoings everywhere, we just have to keep fighting w every available weapon: calls, emails, Activate America cards, ACLU donations . . . neighborhood fundraisers. Good luck!
After a lifetime in SF, I’m now retired to Portland with The Frogs. I’m also my father’s daughter: a news junkie. He read the Chronicle every morning, the Examiner every evening, and the combined Sunday edition. Plus he watched Cronkite and KTVU. Now these little handheld devices make it all the easier to get a fix.
I am not OK.
Hey Leah - I might be one of the aforementioned friends on news siesta. Eek! I resemble that remark. But I reassure you that I'm not totally out of touch. I regularly ask friends what's going on in the news and hear their touching reports rather than the NYT version. Memorably I was at a fancy restaurant on my own, sitting at the bar having some skewers and a beer. I noticed that the people next to me were having a conversation about politics, so I introduced myself and told them of my approach to news. I asked them if they would tell me what had been happening. It was the day after the second ICE murder in Minneapolis, so they told me about it. I was devastated and so were they. Complete strangers, we ended up connected, touching and sharing words of kindness. I will always remember them and I am guessing they will remember me, the odd guy in the restaurant, and the sad moment we shared together.
Missing you as I go alone to VanNess and Geary as an old white wine drinking lady. Look forward to your company again.
Keep going, dear Leah, and keep writing! Your aching feet and our aching hearts belong together.