Are You Smelling What I'm Stepping in?

How is it that I set such high standards for the shoes I buy, but not for the boys (yes, I said boys) I date?

When buying shoes (and I do a lot), I always have some sort of mental check list of qualifications and attributes my shoes must have.  I tend to be attracted to the more flashy expensive shoes, but I always look for great craftsmanship and quality.  No matter what anyone says, shoes make the outfit. If you are wearing a great pair of shoes, you: walk better, you exude confidence, and you look amazing…

There are three things which I notice immediately about a person:
1. Smile (teeth)
2. SHOES
3. Whether or not they are wearing white socks with dress shoes!! (Seriously guys, who does that?!!)

I would beg, borrow, sell my soul to the devil, and greatly contribute to the national debt, to have a great pair of shoes. Why is it I don’t set such high standards and make such sacrifices for the men I date?

Anyone who has known me most of my adult life, can tell you that my choice of men is seriously misguided. If I were to compare the boys in my life to the shoes in my closet, it would go like this:

Boy type #1: I would compare him to my really great pair of black leather and snake skin high heels (thank you Donald Pliner). From the moment I saw them in the store, I fell in love. Being just flashy enough for my personality, they had a sense of traditionalism and perfection that only a great pair of black leather heels could possess. The feel and smell of the leather was intoxicating (think the smell of a great men’s cologne). The toes were just pointy enough to scream “look at me”, and the heels were high enough to make my legs look amazing. Those shoes have been a staple in my wardrobe for years (nearly ten). I’ve worn them with a great little black dress or with a pair of jeans and a tank top. No matter what I wear them with, I feel great. I feel like the only person in the world with a great pair of shoes (not to mention how many amazing I look). Through the years, they acquired some flaws, (we won’t mention the time they made me trip and fall flat on my face—twice), but I can’t seem to let go of them. They fit my feet so well and I felt so good when I wore them; they are like home to me. I’ve searched and searched for a pair to replace them, and no matter how many times I throw them in the bottom of my shoe chest, they always seem to reappear right when I need them.

Boy type #2: I would have to compare him to a really bad impulse buy. You know, the shoes you bought at a clearance store where they have loads and loads of defective shoes at such an impressive price that you over look the fact that they are flawed and ugly. (Everyone has owned at least one or two pairs of these!) Those shoes were so not me, I found myself buying outfits to go with the shoes, instead of buying the shoes to go with the outfit (think: changing who you are to be with someone rather than them complimenting your true personality). Those damn ugly shoes gave me blisters, and never quite fit right.  They hurt my feet so bad I finally realized they weren’t for me or my closet. After some soul searching and an intervention, I finally threw them away (not even the Salvation Army would want them!).

Boy type#3: I would compare this guy to my favorite pair of Nike’s. Forever classic and comfortable—yet that’s all they’ll ever be. They fit your feet so well, but honestly, what could you wear them with? No matter how hard you tried, they only matched a few things. You can’t dress them up (they’re running shoes for Christ’s sake!).  You wanted to wear them so bad you found yourself planning your wardrobe around the shoes. They brought a sense of comfort, but at the end of the day, they only made you think about how you didn’t work-out that day, or how your legs would look better in a pair of heels. Those shoes are great for running, but that’s all they’ll ever be good for. Unfortunately, that’s all you found yourself doing: RUNNING.

(There are other random shoes (men) in my closet, but they aren’t important enough to mention. (Think: the three pairs of shoes you have, which are the exact same, but in a different color) I’ve worn them all once or twice, but they’re nothing I would ever get caught having my picture taken in)

Why can’t men be lined up and neatly organized according to size, shape, quality and craftsmanship like a great shoe store? Even if that were the case, it could never be 100% effective. All of us have tried on a “great pair” of shoes which seemed so right in the store, but once you got them home, and wore them a few times… they fell apart.