“Your shopping cart is empty.”
That was because she had removed five pairs of shoes and a pair of lace-up boots, one item at a time from her shopping cart. This was like window shopping used to be—but better. She looked through hundreds of pairs of shoes on the Zappos site and she picked out the most outlandish ones that would suit the imaginary person she was pretending to be that day.
Today she was someone almost like herself, but just a little more daring and a decade or two younger. Lace up snow boots from Converse All Stars and some summer sandals that sparkled gold and some that were platform clogs. She remembered that in the mid-70's her cousin Charlotte twisted her ankle falling off her platform shoes. Hah! She had had a pair of platforms that she loved back then. When she wore them, she was nearly 6 feet tall. But she could not move fast in them. They created a kind of self-inflicted handicap.
These days when she saw young women teetering along on 5-inch heels, she thought to herself, “You damned idiot! When you are 60, your back is so going to regret those shoes!” The other day when she was with her grandchildren at Wonderlab, she saw a little girl who was maybe 8 or 9 years old dressed like a sexy adult. She was clomping around on high heeled boots. They made the little girl’s butt stick out and pulled her whole spine out of whack and made her have to almost run to keep from pitching forward off her shoes. She wondered where that child’s parents were and if she could call CPS on them. She asked her husband, “Why don’t they just bind her feet? Christ, those shoes are damaging that child’s feet and back! What the hell is wrong with people?” Her husband didn’t bother answering.
This memory made her so bummed that she exited the Zappos site. Wacky shoes seemed stupid now and the game was ruined. At least for today.
Veda for the Poplar Grove Muse