Why Shoes?

Why shoes?
Because they are there and I need something to paint.
Still lifes of dishes and such are odd. They lack something. A story perhaps. All of my shoes have stories. It’s true. Shoes are one of those things that I have to buy on purpose. Not like the half gallon of milk I buy over and over again. Or batteries. Or even jeans. Shoes are deliberate. I have to go to a shoe store and try on many pairs and deliberate size and color and style. So much thought goes into every purchase.

There are shoes I love and shoes I hate. Shoes I didn’t even buy for myself. Shoes I’ve only worn once or twice. There’s one pair I’ve put on a million times, but never ended up actually wearing for more than a minute or two. They never seem to fit with what I’m wearing.

These are my red slip-on sneakers. Super comfortable, and very worn out. The label inside is on the verge of falling off, but it still clearly says ‘Steve Madden.’

I have a love/hate relationship with this particular pair. I’ve had them going on ten years I’m sure, and they were not well received by those who voiced an opinion on my clothing at the time. I don’t actually remember buying them, but it was probably one of the few times I shopped on my own. I bought them for comfort and because they are red. I don’t like white sneakers. Never have. There just so.. white… bright… glowing… There’s nothing more noticeable than a brand new pair of bright white sneakers.

These are awesome because they are no fuss with thick padded soles. They protect my toes and I can wear them without socks when my feet are hot, which they often are. The hate comes from the fear that they are terribly ‘uncool.’

I could go on and on about these shoes, all of my shoes actually.

So many shoes, and every pair a story.

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