I actually can't help it...

You see, my preoccupation with shoes began at a very early age. Whether by nature or nurture, I have always loved shoes...

In thinking about this subject lately (perhaps trying to assuage some of my guilt in this rather addictive hobby), immediately a pair of gold snakeskin Keds and a pair of royal-blue leather high-tops come to mind. Both from my rather Madonna-influenced late childhood (like, 9, 10, or 11 years-old) and both foreshadowing my penchant to lean away from the standard black and brown offerings toward more colorful options.

Childhood memory #1

One of my first rather strongly shoe-influenced memories arises from when I was probably 3 or 4. I was a flower girl in a wedding, and wearing a lovely little pink chiffon number with billowy sleeves and a burgundy velvet sash (perhaps a little preoccupied with dresses, too, eh?) when I realized at the reception that I had lost my mother! Well, being less than 3-feet-tall, I knew I was never going to see her face in the crush of party-goers.

So, what did my deliberate little mind come up with? I ruined that little dress crawling around on hands and knees looking for my mom's shoes. I knew I would know those shoes!

My mom still brings up how I ruined that dress whenever I mention this story to defend my shoe fixation.

If I were more computer savvy, I would scan a pic of my in that dress and put it up here. I was so cute. Maybe some day I will add it.

Childhood memory #2

I have always loved movies. I loved "Grease" as a little girl, and I still maintain that John Travolta should probably have quit after that one, while he was still ahead.

I think the scene at the end, where Sandy has totally changed who she is and become a skank just to get the man is one of the best. (Now that I understand it, I'm not so in love with the idea, but I still love that scene because of tradition.)

When I was a kid, I was ever-so-slightly less interested in everything else in that scene, and focused pretty seriously on, yep, you guessed it, Sandy's shoes:

Back then, I thought these were some pretty hot mamas. (Now, I know they are hideous, and absolutely do not match that black spandex outfit!)

Of course, Dorothy's ruby slippers did not escape my attention either. Both of these pairs of red shoes come to the forefront of my memories about their movies. <--See, even in that sentence I consider the movies as belonging to the shoes, and not the other way around. I didn't even do that on purpose.

And on "Ferris Bueller's Day Off," Ferris' sister, Jeannie, kicks Mr. Rooney in the face with white Keds. You can pretty much ask me what shoes someone is wearing in any childhood movie and I can tell you. Don't even get me started about "Dirty Dancing."

Childhood memory #3

Speaking of white keds, I used to sleep in them during thunderstorms. I thought they would protect me from being electrocuted if struck by lightning (yes, through my ceiling, and the rubber soles would not allow the lightning to ground). Now, this really speaks more to my special brand of paranoia than anything else, but the fact is, I thought shoes would protect me from certain death. Oh, and by the way, don't sleep in shoes. It's not comfortable. At all.

Childhood memory #4

I had this best friend, and next-door neighbor, Megan (Mee-gen) whose dad was a radio d.j. on Kiss FM. I remember that he was a d.j., his name, and guess what else? His shoes. I don't remember what he looked like, even though I was over there all the time. I do remember he had these real 80s looking off-white boat shoes. Like this:

Not exact, of course, but similar. His were mostly like this pair that is dancing during the opening credits of "Footloose," and every time I watched (which was a lot) it, I would be like, "there's Megan's dad." To this day, I think, "there's Rod Pryan."

So, there it is people. My self-analyzed obsession. How'd I do? Did I justify it to ya? I'm feeling better. Are you?