I bought a new pair of walking shoes, because the ones I’ve had for the past couple of years are probably a few weeks away from a hole forming in the right sole from my uneven posture and excessive wakling habit. I get quality walking shoes, ones that will last me a couple of years of abuse but don’t have weird shapes in the heel or neon colours. The shoes cost me usually $120-$170 depending on the style and, apparently, where I get them as it turns out I’ve been walking to the farther store to get the same shoes for the higher price. (To be fair, where I’m going has a better selection within my narrow criteria.)
On the colour note, the new pair of shoes I bought are not neon, but they’re still a bold statement: walnut brown with red stitching. My last pair of walking shoes were midnight blue with grey stitching, and impossible to mismatch. Walnut brown is a wonderfully neutral colour, and will go with anything but neon which I don’t wear anyway. Red, though…well, it was once my favourite colour, but now I find it hard to coordinate with most of the spectrum of clothing fashion has thrust upon the world over the past five years.
It’s a gutsy move, getting walking shoes with red stitching. What makes it even gutsier is that there was no other option; the “slate black” colour was out of stock and I highly doubt any shoe designer would make a mass produced shoe with that kind of colour in this era. Yes, I consider things gutsier when there is no choice. I could’ve not bought the shoes at all, which would’ve been easier on the pocketbook, avoided social anxieties of talking to the cashier (which I don’t have, but let’s ignore that), and saved me the time of waiting in line. I was on my lunch break, after all, and spending a good three to four minutes waiting for my turn ended up with me returning six minutes before I had to instead of ten.
The red in the stitching, and in the grooves of the soles, makes a statement to which one cannot be indifferent. One must either be for or against this. If you’re against this, then I will refute your claims with this undeniable point: pants. My pants come in black, brown, dark grey, light grey, and denim blue. Only the light grey could possibly clash, or fail as a buffer between my aqua blouse with a pink camisole. I only wear those pants to work and I don’t need durable walking shoes to get there.
The safe choice was not available, but I decided not to care. Brush that off my shoulders. I’m willing to wear walnut brown with red stitching when I choose to walk for two to three hours instead of spending $2.55 on bus fare. And because I’m subjecting these shoes to that – buying them because I will subject them to that – their autumnal colour scheme must bow to me and take the abuse that wear and tear of water and wind, of dirt and sand and mud and gravel, will impose.
Anyway, that’s my day’s feature accomplishment. What the fuck have YOU done?