Tag Archives: Shoe Stories

Baseball Converse-sations

25 Jun


What’s it like going to a baseball game in hostile territory? “I guess it would depend on where we’re sitting,” say my converse sneakers. While attending a baseball game, rooting on the Giants at Dodgers Stadium, we got Field Level seats in our usual section behind the Visitor’s dugout, between home and first base. Although we’ve all heard the crazy stories of the visiting team’s fans getting heckled, harassed, and even assaulted in the parking lot, we’ve never personally had an issue attending a game in LA wearing Giants gear. On our way to meet up with several friends, with seats in different parts of the stadium, we passed through several different sections. My converses noticed that the higher we went towards the top deck, the louder it became, and the more we wondered whether wearing a Giants hat was a good idea. A group of ten all ended up on the Club Level at the Stadium Club restaurant with an awesome gourmet all-you-can eat buffet, sitting at an outdoor table on the patio with a great view overlooking the field, enjoying the game and enjoying great conversations. My sneakers; however, told me that they overheard a man around the corner complain to his companion that there were too many Giants fans and it was too damn loud. As the night went on the Dodgers were up, we all heard a Dodgers fan ask a Giants fan if he wanted to get thrown over the balcony after he was heard rooting for his team. My converses commented, “I truly believe that we’ve come a long way in terms of racism, sexism, and other forms of discrimination; however, it seems like society has created other ‘-isms’ in terms of people having prejudices against others who don’t think alike or who don’t share the same interests. Of course, there’s still a lot of ignorance and bias in this world, but more than ever it seems like every one is polarized based on our belief systems… liberals vs. conservatives, pro-lifer vs. pro-choices, Republicans vs. Democrats…” I ask them if we should we call this beliefism? My converses took our casual baseball conversation on a slight tangent, but they tried to make a point about the hecklers saying, “They are a perfect example of the those who think others are automatic arch enemies just by rooting for opposing teams, and they are supposed to hate each other. I don’t know, call that teamism.” I say, maybe one day we can have a conversation about it with some one from the other team. What happens when that person just simply disagrees with what we’re saying? What do we call that? Can’t call if Disagreeism. My converse reply, “What happens when that person says, yes why don’t we both go outside and talk about it, but I assure you there won’t be a whole lot of talking…” That’s when I say we better get the hell out of dodge(r’s stadium). When the Giants lost the game that’s exactly what we did, which meant I had to do more walking with my shoes and less talking. That was the end of that baseball converse-sation.

Guilty By Ashoeciation

11 Jun


Are there ever times when we feel like we’re guilty until proven innocent? It seems like there are so many preconceived notions that we have about some thing or some one. For example, today I was in my black and white Jeffrey Campbell Burke platform heels. I was hanging out with a group of friends, acquaintances, and associates. My shoes made the comment about some one in particular, saying, “Based on my observations, she acts like everything revolves around her. You don’t want to be associated with that woman. She is self-centered, inconsiderate, and scandalous. She will bring nothing but trouble.” Wow, those were pretty harsh words to describe some one that we barely even know. I’m more inclined to believe that every one should be given the benefit of the doubt, but my shoes come from the school of hard knocks and are inclined to believe otherwise. “I have been stepped on and kicked around too many times to fall for the same inconsiderate B-words time and time again. I’ve seen this kind of person enough to know to be careful around her.” Ok, Dad. I feel like I’m being lectured like a thirteen year old, when my parents told me not to hang out with “bad influences.” It’s highly unlikely that I’d want to be best friends with some one who is unpleasant to be around, but I still feel like making quick judgments about people leads to general and sometimes unfair stereotypes. “We all have opinions about things. That’s how we make assessments about things in order take action in life, it’s how we all function. Our opinions are good, bad, or otherwise. And in this case, my opinion about the girl isn’t good.” While my shoes look at things very black and white regarding their associations (and so happen to be black and white), there are a lot of different personalities that we have to deal with, whether we like it or not. I found; however, that there was some truth in what they were saying. Choosing the people we choose to have in our lives are like the shoes we pick out and wear. The wiser I become, the quicker I can determine when a pair is going to hurt my feet or end up breaking my ankle. There are some shoes that we’ll love to pieces and wear all the time, some that will hang out in the closet for specific occasions, and others that will get neglected or tossed out altogether. My shoes commented, “If some one didn’t knowing you, he or she would probably assume that you’re the type of person who believes that a girl could never have too many shoes.” No comment; I guess I’m already guilty by ashoeciation.

Everyday I’m Shoefflin’

1 Jun


While we’re playing cards, doesn’t it seem like the deck favors some people and not others? Last night, I was invited to attend the City of Hope Research and Medical Center (a National Cancer Institute-designated Comprehensive Cancer Center and founding member for the National Comprehensive Cancer Network) Charity Event at the the Creative Artists Agency in Los Angeles. I entered into the All In For Hope Celebrity Poker Tournament for an awesome cause and also for a chance to win the $10,000 seat to the World Series of Poker Main Event In Las Vegas, which was awarded to the last player standing. Well, in this case, it would be the last player sitting, because when or if a player gets busted out, he or she basically stands up from the table, and heads off to the sidelines, otherwise known as the rail. I was discussing the night’s events with my Isabel Marant Carol studded leather sandals, since there was very little action at our table and many of the players weren’t very talkative. My sandals aren’t very knowledgable about Texas Hold ‘Em, but even they noticed that the dealers weren’t very good. They wondered if that had any correlation to my cards not being very good, but I was convinced that in gambling, it really just comes down to the luck of the draw. Poker requires a lot of luck, but also a lot of patience. About 3 hours into the event, I could hear my shoes shuffling under the table, bored and antsy for this show to get on the road. I basically maintained my chip stack, but announcements to up the ante started to come at an increasingly faster pace. Like my shoes, the Event’s Hosts were wondering what was taking so long. Apparently, this was their first poker tournament event and the planners may not have anticipated the amount of time this game takes. My shoes were falling asleep to the sounds of the dealers shuffling the cards and some of the players shuffling their chips. As the the blinds continued to get bigger and bigger and my chip stack was getting shorter and shorter, I made the choice to try to double up my next good hand. I finally got an Ace King, off suit, in the small blind. At this point, blinds were 400/800 (we all started with 5000 chips, with options to re-buy), and the guy to my right, on the button raised to 2000. It was 1600 to call and we were both relatively short stacked. He had me covered, but I couldn’t let him steal the blinds on the button with my hand so, with my AK, I pushed all in. He called with Queen Nine. I had him crushed, Flop came, nothing… Turn card, nothing… River card came… Queen. I woke my shoes up and I let them know that they’d be happy to hear that we were leaving the table and gave them a summary of what just happened. I congratulated the winner of the hand and shuffled over to the rail. My shoes commented, “Wow, there were only 6 cards in the deck, after the Turn, that could have kept him in his seat,” Well, that’s just the shuffle of the deck I guess. The DJ was spinning some tunes, and my sandals and I couldn’t help but do a little LMFAO shuffle and sing, “Everyday, I’m Shoefflin’.”

Bait and Shoeitch

22 May


So what are the consequences of falling pray to a bait and switch? I went shopping in my Phillip Lim Nude Cody D’orsay Heels and took a break to have lunch. While my shoes and I were taking a load off, we couldn’t help but overhear a couple arguing over lunch a table next to ours. While we didn’t mean to side-bust on their rather private conversation, my shoes and I were the only company we had for one another. My shoes so happened to be flagrantly eavesdropping, so I had to join them. What initially caught our attention was when we heard, “Well you’ve changed.” Then came, “That’s was not what I signed up for,” and followed by, “Who the hell did I end up marrying? I don’t even know you anymore.” After gathering that they were married for a short time before the shit hit the fan and resentment made itself right at home, I couldn’t help but deduce that the the Mr. pulled a bait and switch on the Mrs.; with the Hubby giving the impression that after getting hitched, things between them were going to be something that obviously is not the case now, according to the Wifey. I began wondering where the term bait and switch came from and my brilliant Phillip Lim’s (so knowledgable about the retail world coming from Barney’s and all) informed, “In regards to buying products, a bait and switch is a misleading tactic making false claims about offering a product that was never intended on being sold, but rather switching the product for a lower quality or a higher sales margin. This is illegal and we can take action against the seller, who is guilty of baiting and switching, in order to get compensated.”

While my shoes were well versed in product knowledge, they wondered exactly how people interpret this term as it relates to relationships. While there’s really no clear definition, when we think some one has pulled a bait and switch, the descriptions always seem to contain the subjective feeling of getting duped. Besides our intuition or having an inkling that a person may not be who he or she seems to be, we enter into relationships under the pretense that what we see (and who we get to know) is what we get. To put in in terms my shoes could understand, I gave the analogy that like knock-offs don’t say “Imitation” on their labels, people-pretenders don’t have “Liar” tattooed in Old English gangster-style across their chests or “Prevaricator” tramp-stamped on their lower backs. Like anything that seems like it’s too good to be true, people still get suckered into the “deal.” Even the most cautious consumer can fall victim to a scammer; however, in regards to relationships and investing our time in our partners, if time equated to money, there are no refunds. I proceeded to explain that if we get thrown for a loop by some one who we found out or even by some one who we perceived did a lot of “false advertising,” the only thing we get in return is a reality check (Nope, can’t take that to the bank). Yes, it’s like getting kicked in the pants, or for shoes, it’s like breaking a heel, but those hard knocks are something we can’t buy. So, we must suppose they are invaluable learning lessons. My shoes then asked the question, “What if a person was a certain way at the beginning of a relationship, but then that person, unintentionally, just changed and no longer feels the same way about something or some one? That doesn’t really that counts, does it?” I had to warn them, since they once vowed to always have my back if they wanted to stay on my feet, that they better not even think about a justification for a bait a shoeitch.


17 May


Have we ever seen a pair of shoes that are more fanatical over a basketball team than it’s owner? Well, yes, because we’re looking at them. My Nike Eclipse Trainers are always and will forever be donned in royal blue and golden yellow, the Golden State Warrior’s team colors. They want to represent their die-hard team spirit 24-7. In the playoff game 6 against the Spurs down 3-2, the Warriors needed a win in order to play in game 7, which would in turn give them an opportunity to play in the Western Conference Championship Series. My shoes were rooting the Warriors on, thinking they may be able to make it all the way to the NBA Championship Series, and eventually to victory. The Spurs were leading the majority of the game and the Warriors were only leading briefly in the first quarter; however, as true fans, the trainers never gave up hope. I was screaming and my shoes were kicking and we were all hoping that the “splash brothers,” Curry and Thompson, would turn on their magic and make a spectacular run for it. In the fourth quarter, the Warriors were so close. At one point my shoes were yelling, “Only a three point shot away from the tying the game! Let’s GO Warriors!” Close, but no cigar. The Warriors lost the series and my shoes sulked in the corner and in the shadows. I looked on the bright side, it was an entertaining game and season and I was proud that then Warriors made it as far as they did in the playoffs. “Turn that swoosh right side up, there’s always next season,” I tried to reassure. My trainers tried to be good sports, but they just couldn’t hide their dishoeppointment.

Shoe’ve Got A Friend

15 May


What do we do in times when we’re down and it seems like nothing is going right? Lately, I have been hearing such terrible news from some friends and family members, all going through rough patches, and I could’t help but feel helpless. I was wearing my black velvet dog face slippers during the day and I wasn’t feeling my best; so, they took me out for a walk, along with Simba (golden retriever), Beau Paddington (maltese) and Cocoa Bean (yorkie). Looking down at my doggy’s sweet faces, I started to feel better. The simple joy I felt from being with three of what I consider a girl’s best friend, I was able to, for a split second, forget about the stories of pain, loss, deception, corruption, and heartbreak. I had to thank my slippers for the walk and for the best piece of advice I heard all day, which was “despite everything that we, or any one we care about may be going trough, sometimes, all we can do is offer our love, support, and friendship.” I took the lead of my doggies, who are always there for me, and I let my loved ones know that they’ve got a friend in me. As the lyrics go to James Taylor’s “You’ve Got a Friend:”

When you’re down and troubled and you need a helping hand
and nothing, whoa, nothing is going right.
Close your eyes and think of me and soon I will be there to brighten up even your darkest nights.

You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am
I’ll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call and I’ll be there, yeah, yeah, you’ve got a friend.

If the sky above you should turn dark and full of clouds
and that old north wind should begin to blow,
keep your head together and call my name out loud.
Soon I will be knocking upon your door.
You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am
I’ll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call and I’ll be there.

Hey, ain’t it good to know that you’ve got a friend? People can be so cold.
They’ll hurt you and desert you. Well, they’ll take your soul if you let them,
oh yeah, but don’t you let them.

You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am
I’ll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call, Lord, I’ll be there, yeah, yeah,
you’ve got a friend. You’ve got a friend.
Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend. Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend.
Oh, yeah, yeah, you’ve got a friend.

Culshoeral differences

4 May


How does a place where we live or were raised influence our thoughts and mannerism? The different languages, types of food, beliefs, and customs are sometimes used to describe different cultures. While it seems like we all have individual tastes and preferences, there are a number of things that are shared or that are common to specific places throughout the world. While traveling to Asia, I changed out of my shoes and into my comfy Free People moccasin slippers, and with me, they took notice of a number of things during the eighteen plus hours moving through different time zones to our final destination, the Philippine Islands. While on the plane, flying Asiana, the flight attendants were primarily Korean women, and there was definitely a language barrier. My shoes had a hard understanding what they were saying, and for the attendants, I’m sure the had the same difficulty understanding what I was saying as there was a lot of pointing at things, nodding, and smiling on both ends.

I met my mother on the stopover in Korea, since she flew out of San Francisco and I flew out of Los Angeles. When we finally arrived in Manila, my Uncle Amboy (nick name short for American Boy for having blond hair when he was a child), who I haven’t seen since I was five years old, and his wife picked us up. Not too long during the conversation, my shoes made the observation that while some people in America find it offensive to ask some one’s age, how much money one makes, and why some one isn’t married with children yet, in the Philippines, these types of questions are commonplace in casual conversation. In fact, these questions aren’t even necessary to ask since many Filipinos volunteer information that in the United States we might consider “personal.” Another observation that they made was how nonchalant people in the Philippines are about comments on appearances, like saying some one is too fat, or too skinny, or balding, or aging poorly. Being known as “dark” or “chinky-eyed,” is used as a matter of fact or even endearingly. Just as something that could be interpreted as criticisms are freely said, compliments are just as easy to come by. It wasn’t a very long car ride that my shoes started making their own matter-of-fact comments, like “It’s so hot and muggy, the weather here is so different,” “I could never live in a place this congested with so many cars and people everywhere,” and “It seems like through out this entire trip, people just don’t have a sense of urgency.” While I did agree with them, I asked them what was up with all the negativity. They respond, “I guess, it’s a culshoeral thing.”

My Shoepid Mouth Has Got Me In Trouble

29 Apr


What do we do when say something that we truly mean, but it ended up sounding kinda mean, so we then sorta regretted saying it? That’s what I asked myself after a lunch date I had with “Megan,” an old co-worker and friend. We don’t get to see each other very often, but we finally set up a time to do some catching up. I wore my Dolce Vita Elka Sandals in Camel, which were the first things Megan noticed when she saw me. She said “Cute shoes!” before she even said “Hello.”

We began the conversation asking about general topics, like what we’ve both been up to lately and how work has been going. By the time the food came, we stared talking about her love life. She started telling me that she signed up on a dating site after some bad luck with dating “emotionally unavailable” guys. My shoes were briefed during the car ride to the restaurant on Megan’s spell of bad luck with a few men, all significantly older than she (significantly meaning twice her age). While the guys she dated were upfront with their individual commitment issues, that didn’t prevent her from investing her time and feelings into the eerily similar quasi-relationships that would, after a few months, eventually lead to disappointment. One after the other, each of them continued to be apprehensive about going to that “next level.” I was excited to hear when Megan told me she recently went on a date with this great guy, “Nicolas.” They hit it off, and ended up hooking up after the first date. I asked if she used protection, and while she was a little embarrassed that they didn’t, she told me the truth, immediately justifying her poor decision-making with the fact that he was a physician and told her hadn’t had a partner in over a year. “After one date, how do you know he isn’t a liar?” my shoes asked and my mouth immediately followed… Before Megan even had an opportunity to respond, it seemed like the thoughts of my shoes fed the lines that came next out of my mouth, with no filter whatsoever… I couldn’t stop myself and continued saying, “These days, we just never know who we can trust. We are so careful about our health, the food we put into our bodies, and even in public bathrooms, we put liners on the toilet seats and we even hover over the bowl just for careful measure, but when it comes to guys and love, I swear, people just lose all sensibility.” In a split second, Megan’s expression changed slightly, then she asked, “Did you just compare Nicolas to a public toilet?” Well, if some people were inanimate objects, I could think of a number of people who would fall into the public toilet category, but I could see that the conversation was starting to head to the toilet, and down the drain. My lips turned inward towards each other like I was going to say something that started with a letter “M” and I looked upwards (tell-tale signs of an oops moment) as I contemplated just how to take the comment back. My Shoepid Mouth has got me in trouble, I said too much again… I could see clearly, she was offended, she said “well anyway, just dying for a subject change.” I already knew she had a string of bad relationships and there I went talking toilet seats about a guy I hadn’t even meet yet… I really put my foot in my mouth, and this time it included the shoe… my shoepid mouth!

Shoeda, Woulda, Couldas

16 Apr

YSL Tribute

What’s the allure of gambling again? I was wearing my YSL Tribute T-Strap Sandals at the Harvey’s Casino in South Lake Tahoe and they concluded that the allure for sure isn’t the smoke-filled air, the multi-colored carpets, or the weird drunk guy sitting next to us asking, “So, what’s your story?” I guess the appeal of walking away at the end of the night with more cash than what we came with is enough to have us changing our bills into chips and ignoring everything else. Mama always needs a new pair of shoes, right? While hoping Lady Luck accompanied us to the blackjack tables, we began playing. Nowadays, it’s more like praying, since cards can’t be touched when dealt face up and while using multi-deck shoes (yes, blackjack cards have shoes too). While the goal is to get to 21 or as close to it as possible without going over, we’ll take a win however we can get it, either by beating the dealer or by the dealer busting. Even a draw can some times feel like a win; it sure beats losing. Whether up, down, or even, player emotions run high and if we have chatty shoes like my Tributes, emotions may run even higher. It seemed like every had my shoes had something to say. When I hit because the dealer showed a face card my shoes would say, “You shoulda stayed at 16, there was a 5 that the dealer wasn’t showing and you took the bust card.” When I increased my bet only to end up losing it they’d say, “If you woulda kept the bet the same, you woulda minimized your losses.” Even when I won, they yelled, “Ugh, you coulda bet more!” Yeah, that’s really easy to say when hindsight’s 20/20 and maybe slightly easier if we all consistently got hands that equaled 20. After a while, I had to put my foot down and walk away while I was ahead. While gambling, it’s easy to get carried away trying to press our luck. But if we lived our lives solely relying on luck, we’d have to deal with a hell-of-a-lot of Shoeda, Woulda, Couldas.

Looking Shoespicious

13 Apr


Do we feel more violated or more safe during the screenings at airport security? On my way to Reno, I had to fly out of LAX airport (probably the most obnoxious airport to fly in and out of during high traffic times). I was wearing my Rag & Bone Classic Newbury boots in bronze and had to take them off, dump them in a bin, and send them on the conveyor belt to get x-rayed. The Newburys began complaining about being degraded to feel like criminals, getting checked and looked at inside and out like they were already guilty of plotting something or being armed and dangerous. I had to explain that although we aren’t psychopaths, there definitely are some out there; no one can tell who falls into which category just by looking at us or taking our word. There were some awful things that have happened at airports and on planes in the past and there are still some people out there who are evil enough to use our airport system as a means to hurt people and/or to smuggle in and out illegal substances or objects. Those people also think of ways to use things, sometimes things like their shoes, to assist in concealing weapons, drugs, or other non-permitted items. My boots just couldn’t believe that other shoes could have actually participated in being accessories to criminal activity and thought shoes being accessories to anything other than fashion in unfathomable. My boots held the opinion that “killer stilettos” was just a saying and could never be taken literally. After seeing every one’s bare or sock-covered feet and all the shoes on the conveyor belt going through the same process, my shoes stopped complaining. I guess they realized that every one and everything is under suspicion, and it’s not just because some one thought the Newburys were the only ones that were looking shoespicious.