I know. A blog post about Ferragamo Shoes is not what you expected. But. The fact of the matter is that I have been unable to walk, to sit, to drive, or to bend over to pick up anything off of the floor since I wore these adored shoes — just for an hour — three days ago.
The heel is really Not That High. Not when you compare it to what the darlings of the fashion world are wearing these days. Given the neutral taupe color and the conservatively rounded toe; the
simple clean lines; the craftsmanship … Everything about these shoes thrills me.
Don’t forget the cache of wearing shoes made in Italy. I have been in shoe heaven ever since I bought this pair of shoes …uh…
a few years ago. I wear them Once in a While.
Give them up? Never wear them again?
Sadly, if I am to ever walk my dogs again, the shoes have to go. Hell, if I am to just walk MYSELF or get up from a chair without grimacing, they have to go.
This is what comes when you get into one of Those Moods when you want to feel sexy just by sliding your feet into a pair of shoes that raise your heels up off of the floor. Somehow, this higher elevation, especially when you’re wearing jeans, makes
you me feel flirty and fun.
And I needed a dose of that this past weekend. Kind of like a shot of
cheap instant therapy. Put the right pair of shoes on and instantly feel sexy good.
I wore them for only an hour, I swear! Long enough to drive into the village, make the walk from the parking garage into the library, spend not more than 30 minutes chatting up the librarians and grabbing a few books before
tottering striding out to the parking garage to slide into my car … drive home, pull into the driveway, walk from the garage into the house, up three steps, cross the kitchen into the dining room and then – only then – off come the shoes.
Easiest thing in the world. Did I feel like a million bucks? I did.
Was it worth it?
Twenty four hours after my million dollar hour, the core of my body, from my breast bone down to my tail bone spasmed in the most remarkable way. It felt like a huge hand swooped into my body and relentlessly squeezed it, trying to force it to a place it did not want to go.
Bodies are not meant to do what my body did to me.
Any kind of movement from that moment to now is a test of mind over
matter body. And, I’ll give you a clue: my mind isn’t winning.
Day Two of the Terrible Spasm, the pain dropped down to my coccyx where its taken up residence showing no sign of moving out any time soon.
I’ve invented at least five new ways to get out of bed in the morning. None of them are pretty. All of them require expletives.
I can still drive. As long as I don’t have to drive in reverse. Or drive for long periods of time.
I managed to sit through a three hour meeting this morning with only two or three grimaces and that was handled by walking Very Carefully.
Today, I’m thinking that it’s a good thing that two of my dogs are 9 and 14 years old respectively. They’re wonderfully healthy (Thank God) but they are Not As Active as Tessa, my 18 pound sighthound mix-breed. That 18 pounds is her saving grace.
My saving grace is that this week, my husband’s off work and is around to pick up the slack.
So, I’m thinking that my love affair with my Ferragamo shoes is about to bite the dust.
I’d feel better about this if the shoes were in any way less pristine. They are stunningly elegant shoes. Perhaps I need to readjust my thinking.
Isn’t feeling sexy more a state of mind than wearing a pair of shoes?
Truth be told, I miss my yoga poses, miss walking with my dogs, miss being able to just roll out of bed in the morning, and would like to be able to move without my lower back rebelling.
And, it’s high time to get back to blog posts about dogs and the clever things they do. Come to think about it, they’re pretty clever from puppy hood! How they feel doesn’t depend on a pair of shoes.
Give me a pat on my head. Anyone?