Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Forsaking fashion

Okay, so I'll admit it: Mary Clare has a lot of shoes. In my defense, her foot has not grown for close to a year, she has some hand-me-downs shoes, and with the exception of a few styles that I buy year after year, the majority were bought at a deep discount on end-of-season clearance and stored away until it was their time to shine. So, there.

Oh, and shoes bring her such delight that I cannot help but indulge her my habit. I mean, come on! Remember this? It is an enduring love affair.

Despite having a decent selection of footwear, 90 percent of Mary Clare's shoes are extremely sensible. Most shoes are closed toe so she can wear them to school, and her sandals all have an ankle closure and can also be tightened across the toe. Safety first, you know.

The exception to this rule are her pool flip flops (a girl has to match her footwear to her suit, people) and a swanky pair or two of shoes that were so inexpensive and delightful in their colorful sparkly goodness, that they could not be passed over. I thought once summer started, I would spend every morning cajoling Mary Clare to pick sensible shoes over the sparkly numbers that were for home and special occasions.

Au contraire.

You see, we are into running! Jumping! Playing! We need to go, and our shoes cannot hold us back.

Now every time I present her nice white or red sandals (again, still very sensible Stride Rites and Saltwaters, thank you), she says, "No! I need to run! I can't play in those!" And sometimes she cries for good measure.

Never mind that we are going to church. Or a party where there is no room to run. Or a place where she will likely take off her shoes the second we arrive. The girl needs to move! She has things to do!

Part of me is really happy that she wants to be so active and in the mix. The other part of me just really wants her to match and look cute. It's vain, it's terrible, but come on. Nikes with a smocked dress is not a good look on anyone, no matter how quickly they're running, jumping and climbing.

And so the negotiations begin. It's all good training for what lies ahead. Today's shoe troubles are tomorrow's slinky dress horrors.


  1. We have been letting Annie pick out her bows. I will admit there's been a few times, after an exceptionally horrible selection, the bow is inexplicably broken or I pull a slight of hand and apply the bow of my choosing.

    And all she wants to wear is crocs. They go missing on days when they are not appropriate. I bought those suckers for a short beach trip never imagining they would become the shoe of choice. Yuck.


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