Purple, a deep grape-like hue, and pointed. Their faux crocodile texture called to her from the safety of their box on the shelf. “Make me yours. We could do beautiful things together,” they seemed to call out. And so, she did what any sensible young woman in her late 20’s would do. She bought them, and eagerly awaited the first time she would place them on her foot for a well-deserved night on the town.
Forming to her foot perfectly, she wore those high heels out on many date nights with her husband, at the time her fiance’. Their 2-inch height made her feel sexy as they peeked out from below her boot cut jeans which hugged her every curve, and between the three of them, there was an added confidence to each step. From carrying an ice cold beer from the bar to shaking all God had given her on the dance floor, those shoes carried her throughout these carefree days.
But as it often does, time passed, and one day, a few years later, these same shoes fell onto her lap while cleaning out the closet. She picked up the old friends, now desperately neglected, and smiled to herself remembering all the fun times they had shared. Lost for only a fraction of time in thought, the toddler girl stumbled into her lap.
She too had heard the call of these beautiful purple shoes. Their color, the height of their heel, their pointed toe all strangely intoxicating, just as they had been to her mother. “Mine, mine! Me wear!” she called out excitedly, these new shoes far surpassing her princess heels she often clomped around in while pushing her baby in the stroller or sweeping the living room rug. And so the mother handed them over to her daughter.
“You can put them on, sweetie, but you have to be careful. I don’t want you to turn your ankle,” she reminded her lovingly.
There were many hurts that she was not going to be able to keep her daughter from as she continued to grow, but the dangers of a beautiful pair of shoes, she could.
And oh how she loved them. Wearing Mommy’s shoes made her feel like a big girl, gave her confidence, although her step was wobbly. The joy on the toddler’s face, when given the chance to put them on her dainty little feet, was beyond compare. And looking at her daughter so happy from something that had given her so much joy and confidence, was so unexpected; something she would never have dreamed of when obeying the object’s call to her from the rack, or whilst “getting down” on the dance floor, beer in hand, just a few years ago.
How times change she thought to herself as she placed the shoes once more in their cozy little box, to be tucked away once more in the depths of the closet. But right before she could place them on the shelf, she looked at her daughter, now lost in a jumble of necklaces Mommy used to wear as well, and she snuck one more little peek at the shoes on her own foot. In a Cinderella kind of moment, she slid just one pump onto her foot and marveled at how her leg and foot looked slimmer, more sleek, sexier, and she grinned. Those were not words she regularly associated with herself any longer, but maybe, just maybe, times hadn’t changed that much.