Undeterred, I decided to try on some of the Milly for Sperry shoes for contrast. I asked a woman working at the party how I might do so, making sure to gesture down towards my feet. “Did you just come from a run?” she asked. “No, I just think they’re really comfortable,” I replied with a straight face, and part of me died inside. “These have a platform, so they’re really comfortable, too,” she said, pointing at her Sperrys. “We have them in navy, if you like that.” “Sure!” I said.
A saleswoman came over to ask me what size I was. “Nine,” I said, pointing down at my feet once again. Upon glancing at them, her eyes opened wide, but she didn’t say anything. A consummate professional.
I tried on the shoes she brought me and studied them in the mirror, carefully weighing these new “real shoes” against my barefoot Earth shoes.
“What do you think? Would you like to try on the other one?” she asked. I replied that they were too narrow for my wide feet (true) and I’d rather stick with something more comfortable.
I occasionally caught people looking at my shoes, but everyone was too polite to say anything. One fashionista in particular was giving me serious side eye:
Before I left, a friendly woman came up to me and said that she loved my shoes. “Do you like them?” she asked. I said yes. “I totally need some, I’m always running after my daughter.” I wanted badly to counsel her against them, but did not.