Robin at Pensieve is hosting Fun Monday this week and this is what she wants to know:
Shoes tell a lot about a person and we wanna delve deeply into your sole. Photograph your favorite pair--or pairs--of shoes and tell us a little about why they're near and dear to your toes heart (I can't wait to see how Swampy ties this in to Breast Cancer Awareness!). Follow in Jenny's footsteps and make a foot-family portrait...show us your baby bronzed booties...let us see the shoes YOU HAD TO HAVE (but have never worn)...or all those grotesquely dyed-to-match formerly white satin bridemaid's shoes that were worn ONCE...the reinforced steel-toe boots that saved your big toe from being hacked off in that industrial "accident"...or, just take pictures of your nekkid feet--gnarly bunions, twin toes, or perfectly OPI-pedicured tootsies.
Once again, Fun Monday is about some area I am impaired in. I'm not a great cook, artist, or any of the other things that Fun Monday has asked us about - and my feet are no exception.
I do not have cute feet.
With tons of brothers, whose feet grew at the speed of light, shoes were a precious commodity in our house. They were saved for special occasions like school or church or eating out, but most of the time we were barefoot. Between being barefoot most of my youth and being cursed/blessed with my father's foot structure genes (blocky and thick), finding shoes to fit in the first place has always been a challenge. It got even harder after my pregnancy that resulted in ZBoy. Now my thick, blocky feet were also wider and flatter than ever before. Offloading the baby didn't mean they snapped back the way waistlines supposedly do. They stayed wide, thick, blocky and flat.
As a result, I have three pairs of shoes that I actually wear and all of them are functional rather than stylish.
Exhibit A - The Croc flip-flop
Exhibit B - The Athletic Shoes
Exhibit C - The Dress Shoes
I don't have dream shoes. I just dream of shoes that won't torture my feet.
Darling Man was out of town this weekend, soI couldn't really take a picture of his feet for the "family portrait". He really has very elegant feet. They are long and fine-boned. His toes aren't weird.
Mine have toes that looked like they were assembled from parts off an assembly line, with the three toes in the middle looking like one piece. I can't stand having long toenails and keep them cut short, just longer than the bed of the nail. I don't polish them, buff them or really pamper them in any way. My feet are functional and I am grateful for that. My grandmother had horrible feet - she could barely walk on them because they hurt so much. I had a couple of years when walking was extremely painful to me as well as a result of a car accident. My feet were the last things to heal.
My son is blessed with a mixed gene pool. His feet are much finer than mine, thanks to his father, but they are also sturdily built to support a future really-big-man. They grow like wildfire in fits and starts. And they are nearly as big as mine. Which is really saying something.