Bright blue ones. Blue suede ones.
He bought them for me as a gift while he was in Rome, and they were part of an emotional turning point for me.
They really are that bright; that’s an unedited iPhone photo.
Whenever I wear them, people notice them. And compliment them. Six today — two men and four women — one of them a student who audibly said, “Oh my gosh, those are awesome shoes” as I walked past her.
They ask for attention. They demand notice. They are not subtle shoes.
I am not often a subtle woman. I demand notice. I ask for attention.
He knows that.
I love them.
Today, sadly, they’re killing my bunion like they never have before. I think my foot’s getting worse. Reality is intruding into my symbol-laden fun, and I disapprove.