I love the bright flowers and the sense of fun they bring to my feet. When I’m wearing them it’s as if I’m saying, “Here I am, look at me! This is who I am! I’m not afraid to be bright and flower-y!” For so long I’ve tried to blend in, to go unnoticed through life. Don’t look at me. Don’t notice who I really am. But now I’m ok with who I am. I don’t mind people knowing that there is something more to me than the exterior. There are bright flowers and fun living in this skin.
I love that I got them in Venice. When we lived in Italy, I walked my son three blocks to his school every day. When it was rainy, I would come home with soaking wet feet and pants no matter how hard I tried to avoid the puddles. So, I was on the lookout for rainboots when I saw these in a shop window on one of my many trips to Venice. They were perfect. I was so excited to get them home, I couldn’t wait for it to rain.
Upon wearing them in that first rain, I discovered these boots hurt my feet terribly. When I put them on, everything feels ok. That’s why I bought them, they felt great in the store. It’s not until I walk a block or two that the pain sets in. I have wide feet and they are just a smidge too tight. They don’t have any flexibility and it’s as if my feet slowly become pinched in a vice.
They are so painful, I never wear them anymore. I almost gave them to someone this year. But every time I tried to give them away, I couldn’t do it. I love these boots and what they represent. So they’ve been sitting next to our coat rack, looking cute as an umbrella stand.
Until yesterday morning, when we had a break in the rain. As I looked outside at the sun going in and out of the clouds I had the idea to head to the park for some self-portraits in my lovely rainboots and a pink umbrella. At least they could be useful as a photo prop. For an hour, I had fun playing with my camera. I discovered the distance limit of my remote control. I played with focus and depth of field. I played with poses. All in the park in my bright rainboots without worry about what a soul around me might think. See? They bring me confidence. I love these boots.
But after an hour, my feet hurt so much I couldn’t run back and forth to the camera anymore. Nothing, and I mean nothing, ever felt as good as getting back to the car and changing out of these boots. It took a while, even then, for my feet to stop hurting. I just can’t wear them. I’m not willing to sacrifice comfort for cuteness anymore. I hate these boots.
I love these boots.