Why I Hate Shopping for Shoes

One day a couple of summers ago, I did something I had never, ever my whole life.

I bought four pairs of shoes. In one day.

Here is what happened:

I took my daughter, Ilana, to a store called Parade of Shoes (which would be a really interesting parade, don’t you think? Hundreds of pairs of shoes, stepping down the street in orderly rows, all by themselves…) in the mall to buy shoes. (For her, not for me.) While we were there I saw a pair of sandals which I sort of liked, but I didn't try them on, at least not at first. I'm not entirely sure why. I think it was because I hadn't planned on buying sandals at all, but I was anxious and restless in the store (I know- you are shocked to hear that I was anxious and restless while shopping, but it's true.)

I left Ilana in the store and went downstairs to the American Greetings store to try to buy a Father's Day card for my son-in-law. But since I am chronically late with greeting cards, Father's Day was over, so there were, of course, no Father's Day cards left. So I went back upstairs to the shoe store, hoping that Ilana would have picked out her shoes and I could just pay for them and then GET OUT OF THE MALL AND GO HOME! But, no such luck. She was still looking around and trying on shoes.

So, I wandered around anxiously and aimlessly in the store for a few minutes, but after several minutes the teenage clerks started eyeing me suspiciously, and also it's a very small store, with only two aisles, and there were several other people shopping in there, and I kept passing the same people over and over again as I wandered up and down the aisles (all two of them) and it was embarrassing to have to keep saying "Excuse me" to the same people, when clearly I was just being annoying and had no valid reason for repeatedly getting in their way; after all, I wasn't even trying on any shoes, or even looking at them, for that matter, and if I just wanted to walk, they were undoubtedly thinking, why there was an entire MALL right outside the door, for Pete's sake, so why didn't I just walk there????

Anyway, I'm sure that's what they were thinking. So I decided to sit down on one of those little benches they have for people who are trying on shoes, but it wasn't at all comfortable, and there were piles of shoe boxes in the way, and all of the benches (all two of them—one for each aisle, naturally) faced large mirrors, so when I sat down I couldn't avoid looking at my reflection, and if there's one thing I hate (besides shopping, of course), it's looking at myself in the mirror. Especially when there are a lot of other people around and most of them are younger and thinner and more attractive (and better dressed—that goes without saying) than I am.

So I got up and started to wander around the store again. But by now I was feeling even more conspicuous, so I finally just decided to try on those sandals, partly because it was easy: I was already wearing sandals so I didn't have any socks to take off or laces to untie, and the sandal on display happened to be a size 6, which is my size. So I tried it on. (And no, I didn’t put on one of those little footies they have in little boxes on top of the shelves—don’t tell anyone!)

The sandals were pretty comfortable, and Ilana (my Personal Fashion Advisor) said they were cute. But that doesn’t mean I was ready to buy them, since for me, actually buying something in a mall is only the culmination of a rather lengthy process of psychological preparation, and I hadn't done that. I had only prepared myself to buy shoes for Ilana. In fact, I started feeling anxious as we were driving down the highway, before we even got to the mall. By the time I parked the car, I was already calculating how quickly I would be able to leave. So, getting back to the story, by this time, Ilana had picked out her shoes, so I paid for them and we left, without sandals.

But I wasn’t going to get out of shoe shopping so easily, because I actually did need sneakers—the ones I’d been wearing had holes in the soles and the toes. I had been psychologically preparing myself for this for several months, ever since the morning a friend commented, during our daily walk, “Wow, your shoes are getting really raggedy. I’ve had three new pairs since you bought those.”

During the previous few days, I had planned the details. I decided to go to a particular department store which generally has a good selection and reasonable prices. So, Tuesday morning, my other daughter, Shosh, came over with her baby and she and Ilana and I (and the baby, but he didn't care where we went shopping) went to the store. I went right to the shoe section- but it wasn't there. They had moved it. Now it's upstairs. That meant I would be spending a few more minutes in the store than I had planned, since now I had to find the escalator and then go all the way upstairs and also I had always liked this store’s shoe department because it was right near the door, and I could get out of there in a hurry if I needed to. (I'm not kidding- this is actually true, this is how neurotic I am about shopping.) But since I had shlepped both daughters (and the baby, but like I said, he didn't care where we went shopping) all the way out to the mall so I could buy sneakers, I figured it wasn't fair to change my mind and tell them we had to leave just because the shoe department had been moved upstairs.

So I went to find the escalator. I found it with no trouble. But it was broken. So I walked up.

When I got to the top, the shoe department was nowhere to be seen. With a sinking feeling, I realized that it must be all the way on the other side of the store, on the opposite side from the escalator. I stood there for a moment, hoping I would be able to tell which way it might be, so I could choose the shorter path, but there were no clues- all I could see were "Boys' Wear" and "Girls' Wear". (And no, they didn't have the apostrophes in the right places on the signs. I don't think they had apostrophes at all.) So I walked around to the right, and thank G-D, there was the shoe department.

I perused the shoes for about 10 minutes, but every time I found a pair I liked at a reasonable price, they didn't have it in my size. Finally I found a pair of white Nikes and tried them on. They weren't all that comfortable. I was about to give up and go back downstairs when my daughters (and the baby, but he didn't... well, you know) showed up—they had been looking at clothes downstairs, and had come up in the elevator with the stroller. The girls took one look at my feet and said, "Mom, you can't buy those. They're white." What's wrong with white sneakers, I wondered? So I was told: they're dorky. They went out of style before my kids were born. They're for old ladies.

So I basically turned the task over to the girls, and in a few moments they brought me a pair of white sneakers, but with some blue trim on them, and I tried them on and they fit so I decided to buy them.

That was pair # 1.

As I was putting my old shoes back on, prior to going to find the cashier, Ilana brought me another pair of shoes from the clearance rack. "You should try these on, Mom,'" she told me. "They're really cool." I thought they looked exactly like bowling shoes, and I told her so. "I know, that's what's in style now," she said. And since everything I know about style could fit in a thimble (after all, I had almost bought white sneakers!), I tried them on, and they fit, and they cost $7, and both of my daughters said I should buy them. So I did.

That was pair #2.

But I still think they look like bowling shoes.

We found the cashier without much trouble, and left the store. When we got out to the car, Shosh said, "How far are we from Nordstrom Rack?" Immediately my whole body tensed up. I hadn't counted on this- going to ANOTHER store? But I just said, "About 15 minutes." She didn't say anything, so against my better judgment I said, "Do you want to go?" even though my brain was screaming NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!
But fortunately she sighed and said, "No, I'm tired. Let's just go home."

So I took Shosh and the baby home, and Ilana and I went home, and after dinner Ilana wanted to go to Target and Barnes and Noble. So we went to Target, and Ilana bought socks and a hat and looked for another pair of shoes, but she didn't find any she liked. I looked briefly at the sandals while I was waiting for her, but the shoe display was hopelessly disorganized, and after about 30 seconds I had had all I could take, so I went and got in line. The lines were really long—there were only 3 checkout lanes open, and at least 6 people were waiting in each line. I always find it really irritating, that most stores won’t open up another lane when it’s obvious that they should. They probably make most of their profit on the gum and candy bars and batteries and trashy magazines that line the checkout lanes.

As often happens in situations like this, I started having an anxiety attack, and I was on the verge of leaving the cart and walking out of the store, but then I knew I'd just have to come back another time because Ilana needed socks for camp. But fortuitously, the two people in line in front of me suddenly left the line. One of them, it appeared, was with another person who was standing in the adjacent line, and that one was moving slightly faster, so he went over there. The other guy just walked through an empty lane and out of the store. He was holding a small white paper bag. I don't know if he was shoplifting, or if he just had a sandwich in the bag. (But then why was he waiting in line at the checkout?)

So I paid for the socks and the other stuff, and we left the store, and Ilana said, "I still need shoes." Apparently she needed another pair, in addition to the pair I'd bought her on Monday.

I just sighed.

To make a long story short (OK, I realize it’s already too late for that, but bear with me,) we ended up at Parade of Shoes again. But it was already 8:40, and the mall closes at 9:00, so I figured I could hold myself together for 20 minutes. We went into the store and Ilana tried on more shoes and I wandered aimlessly through the aisles (all two of them,) and when she was done we passed by the sandals on the way to the cashier and Ilana said, "Mom, you should buy those sandals you liked, they're really cute." And since I had already tried them on, I figured, well, OK, they were only $15, so I picked up the box and took it, and Ilana's shoes, to the checkout counter. The clerk said to me, "The sandals are buy one pair, get the second pair for 1/2 price. Did you want to pick out another pair?"

Well, no, not really. But if I didn’t, I’d be throwing away $7.50. So I told Ilana to go pick out some sandals for herself, but, incredibly, she said she already had enough sandals. (Must have been the heat.) The store was closing in 3 minutes. They already had the metal grating pulled halfway down from the ceiling. So I was about to just leave and forget about the $7.50 when Ilana said, "Come on, Mom, you should get yourself another pair." I allowed her to lead me down the aisles (all two of them) until we found a pair of sandals that Ilana said were "nice", not "cool", but "nice", and I tried them on and they fit and they didn't look like bowling shoes and they only cost $7.50. So I bought them.

That was pair # 4.
When we got home, I was putting all of my new shoes away in the closet, and I had several pairs of shoes that I never wear. Some of them are just old and falling apart, and others are worn and shlumpy-looking. So I took them out of the closet and put them in a plastic bag to give away. There were a couple of pairs that I wasn't sure about, so I asked Ilana. She looked at the shoes I was holding, and asked, "When did you buy those, Mom?"
I was ashamed to admit that at least one of those pairs dated back to my college years. But I admitted it anyway.
"Wow, that's so cool," Ilana said.
"Should I get rid of these?" I asked her, holding up a pair of dusty brown shoes. Ilana studied them for a moment. "Congratulations, Mom," she said, smiling. "You've kept your old shoes so long that now some of them are actually coming back into style."
That was really wonderful news: that, along with the four new pairs, makes it likely that I won't have to go shopping for shoes again for a very long time.

Which is good, because I hate shopping.