That’s not me on Friday, but I know people like visuals.  It is me, and it is my scooter, it’s just not Friday.

Anyway, I had on “nice” jeans, a white shirt, and boots.  It was Friday, I had no meetings, it’s summer.  I looked fine (for me).

These were the boots I had on:

Ok, if any people who ride two wheeled vehicles would like to have an internal dialogue about how safe these are, go ahead.  I’ll wait.  I’ve been having some foot soreness lately and these are the most comfortable boots I own.

Anyway, I was walking down the stairs mid-afternoon as two women were walking up them.  Both women had on high heeled sandals that were (and this really is the only word for it) bejeweled.

Something like that.  I was admittedly clumping a little–as I was trotting down the stairs.  They, on the other hand, were walking slowly and carefully, undoubtedly not to trip and fall as they ascended.  They were undergrads going to class.  Trust me when I say I know that’s who they were.

Both of them glanced at my feet and then at each other and shared a moment (I saw it, no ambiguity) of disapproval.  I simply kept going but have been thinking about them and their shoes and me an my shoes ever since.

Yesterday, I asked Teresa, “when did women start wearing such stupid shoes?”

She replied, “oh, they always have.”

That’s Claudette Colbert “walking” her dog in 1938.  Those shoes wouldn’t work for me.  Seem fine for Ms. Colbert, though.

Here’s the thing, though, even if women have always worn shoes that make them less, um, functional than men, they didn’t use to ALWAYS do so.  By which I mean, they may have had the less functional shoes, but they only wore them sometimes.

For example, when I was in college, women didn’t wear those kinds of shoes to class.  They wore comfortable shoes.  Or flats. This trend of comfort predated my college years, of course.  Behold:

You don’t even need to see these two women’s shoes to know that they have no resemblance whatever to the bejeweled numbers above.  I would like to see the bejeweled numbers over thick socks.  I really would.

The judging of shoes–I might add–was prompted herein not by me, but the bejeweled folks ascending.  I wonder if their feet hurt.  I expect they did.  Maybe still do, here two days later.

I was thinking about that today as I surveyed my shoes.  I cannot say that they reflect any particular trend but my own sensibilities, size 11 feet (which constrains choice, of course), and some practicalities.  I’ve selected a few for a brief tour.

Shall we begin?  Do make sure your seat belt is tightened before we depart.

First, let’s start with the “special interest” shoes.  Those that must serve a particular function (and may not serve another).  Representing this category are:

Shimano’s fine M160 shoes.  Clip in to my fine SPD pedals and be off.

They’re certainly my shiniest shoes.  Truth told, I keep platform pedals on all three bikes most of the time, but sometimes, I like to clip in.  The M160s are ready when I do.

Special interest shoes #2 are also related to two wheeling, though motorized this time.  Behold the Sidi Slash.

Pretty, fancy, no?  Those are motorcycle boots for when you want to ride your 250cc scooter HARD (and safely).

On the casual end of things, I have what we use to call “tennis shoes.”

They’re Go Lite Trail Fly shoes.  Meant for running on scree.  I wear them for tennis shoe occasions.  I have worn them on scree.  In Hawaii.  More often I wear them on pavement.  In Los Angeles.

When I first moved to California, I insisted that one of the best things about it was the ability to wear sandals year-round.  I have had sandal love affairs (Birkenstocks, Doc Martens, Keens), but my true sandal love has always been and will always be…

Teva.  Tee to the vah.  My only pair at the moment, but I’ve another one on order.  There’s also a pair in the “going to Goodwill” bag that Halo chewed on.  I may rescue them and try again to compensate in some way for the cat chew marks.  (Update:  I did rescue them and they may not be the chewed upon pair, as I am currently wearing them and there is no pain.  No pics, you’ll have the trust me).

Six pounds of calico hellion right there.

As some people may have heard, my old friends at Crocs are in trouble.  They may go under.  Belly-up.  Bankrupt.  I let all my Croc clogs go some time ago, as I was getting rashes from the rubber on the tops of my feet.  I did acquire some Crocs flip flops recently.  Every time, I wear them, I think “last running of the Crocs.”  Or last flipping of the Crocs.  Or last flopping of the Crocs.

For work, I tend to practical, brown or black and loafer-esque.  Thus:

Those are Earth Compasses.  The next ones are on the “fancier” end for me.  The last time I wore them, I got a blister which got infected.

Some kind of Merrell slide.  I have them in black and brown.  Teresa and I refer to them as my “Associate Dean” shoes.  I got them as I was starting my new(ish) job and associate (ha!) them with it.  Right now, they’re not in circulation…  Infected blisters, you know.

I have a deep appreciation for Nike’s Considered line.  Launched in 2005, it lasted two years and produced several shoes that I adore.  They’re now all wearing out.  Here are the Gems from that line:

And there is no finer shoe in my life than the last-gasp Considered offering:

I have tan ones, too.  Both pairs are on the worn side of new.  I’ll miss them when they go.  I look through Nike’s current offerings every once in a while.  Then I sigh.  I’m out of the demographic, you see.

I expect I’d have gotten less of a look from the bejeweled crowd had I had these on:

My Earth Scenic boots.  I’ve even been known to polish them.  More hippie than clunky.

Whatever that theoretical outcome on the stairs might have been, there still seems to have been a meeting of women that I missed.  A meeting where it was decided that comfortable shoes were banished.  I’m good about keeping my calendar up-to-date, so it may be that I wasn’t invited to (or wanted at) the meeting.

Just as well I guess. Clunk clunk, flip flip.

Sporksforall:  Sporks!  WTF, woman?  Where’ve you been?  I’m good.

Sporks:  Oh, really sorry about the inattention, blog.  Thanks for just hanging out.  Been kinda busy, you know.  New job.

Sporksforall:  Wow, Sporks.  You’re a Dean?

Sporks:  Actually, no.  See that sentence toward the middle:  “Most have several assistant or associate deans as well (such as an associate dean of academics or an associate dean of students).”  That’s me.  Associate Dean Sporks.

Sporksforall:  Pretty cool.  Takes up a lot of time, does it?

Sporks:  Yep.  What have you been up to?

Sporksforall:  Oh, mostly handling random searches on rancid oil.  One cool thing you know about, though.  You know our picture of the nene foot?  It’s going to be exhibited at the University of Hawai’i, Manoa.  Best nene foot picture ever.  It’s also the top hit when you search nene foot on Google.  Pretty awesome.

Sporks:  Yep that is superveryawesome.  I’m going to get to see it.  Teresa and I are back to Hawai’i later this week.

Sporksforall:  Which islands?

Sporks:  Same as last time, Hawai’i and O’ahu.  Going to miss the Obamas, though.  Fine with me actually, as I’m mighty irritated (ok, royally pissed) about the Rick Warren thing.

Sporksforall: Yep, pretty awful.  Hey, so with all this going on–the Associate Deaning and the trip to Hawai’i–what are you doing chatting with me?

Sporks:  Oh, well, I have a few days between a trip to Atlanta and the one to Hawai’i where the Uni is closed.  First downtime in months.  Figured I’d just check in.

Sporksforall:  Ah.  You been up to anything in the downtime?

Sporks:  Organizing, actually.  I know, I know, not usually my forté.  The new job has made me appreciate a little organization, though.

Sporksforall:  I see.  What did you organize, then?

Sporks:  Glad you asked.  First up (yesterday) was the bathroom. See, I had gone to L’Occitane for a little hand lotion and on the way home, it occurred to me that I should survey my ablutions.  I couldn’t survey my ablutions without also going through the other items in the nightmare that was the bathroom cabinet.  Want to see the results?

Sporksforall:  Sure.

That’s the L’Occitane lotion in the silver tube.  Here’s a close-up of the lotion/hair/tooth shelf.

Pretty nice, huh?

Sporksforall:  Yes, because I saw the before on that, and whew.

Sporks:  I know.  Emboldened by my success, when Teresa and I went out last night to Target, I bought two shoes hanging things for my closet.  They’re AMAZING!

Sporksforall:  Really, you’re going to talk about hanging shoe things as if no one ever used or thought of them before?  Really?  Look on ebay.  They have ones from before you were born.

Sporks:  Whatever.  You want to look?   Seriously, look!

Sporksforall:  I admit it looks nice, but come on, it’s not like you’re the first to discover closet organization.  I mean, The Container Store has been around for a while, now.  Remember when you went to it before going off to college?  That was a WHILE ago.

Sporks:  Ok, ok, I know.  But it’s like the woman I heard on NPR the other day talking about how she had discovered how centrifugal force works.  Just because someone else discovered it before she did, doesn’t mean she didn’t also discover it.  Do you see how happy that woman on the main page of the Container Store website looks?  She’s feeling what I’m feeling.

Sporksforall:  Ya huh.

Sporks:  Oh, hey, you know what I got at REI last night?  It’s not organization-related…

Sporksforall:  What?

Sporks:  A new spork!  It’s made of aircraft alloy and has a darling little carabiner.

Sporksforall:  Nice.  Hey–what’s the red spot on the package?

Sporks:  Blood.  I cut my hand trying to get the cute little carabiner off the package.  But, guess what?  I managed to fix myself up really quickly and efficiently.  Wanna see how?

The first aid shelf!

Sporksforall:  Ok, ok, good for you.  You got yourself all set up.

Sporks:  Well, not really.  The worst job I saved for last.

Sporksforall:  That’s pretty horrifying.  Maybe you should get back to work.

Sporks:  In due time, in due time.  I should probably go now–there’s something productive to be done.

Sporksforall:  Ok, thanks for checking in.  Hope to see you soon.

Sporks:  2009 will be a better blogging year, I think.  Now that my shoes have slots of their own, I’ll have all kinds of time.  Take care.

Sporksforall:  You too.  Hey, want to talk more about rancid oil?

Sporks:  Probably not.

Sporksforall:  Oh well, just trying to work from strength to strength.

Sporks:  Yep.  Let’s work on nene feet more then.

Sporksforall:  Sounds like a plan.

____________________________________________________________________

Sporks:  Psst, Sporksforall–want to see the after?

Sporksforall:  (Sigh) Sure.

Hey, that is pretty good.

Sporks:  Thanks.  Oh, and a tip (we should all channel our inner-weese every so often…)  keep your extra bicycle tubes inside (lower left).  They’ll last longer if the temperature is more controlled.

Sporksforall:  I’d care about that if I had the ability to ride a bicycle.

I also have the ur-Crocs. Butter Beach:

Can you not tell the difference? Beach are wider than Cayman. Learn something new every day don’t you?

It’s winter here in Southern California. While the weather is weak and mild compared to many parts of these here United States (not to mention our friendly neighbors to the north), it’s still cold. You shouldn’t wear shoes with holes cold, at least. So I asked for the Crocs without the holes for Christmas. They’re called Endeavors. I bought a pair in bright blue (and the wrong size like a total dork) on the way home from Las Vegas. I got a pair in khaki (in the right size) for Christmas.
For those of you not yet hip to the Croc phenomenon (and you know who you are), let me tell you that Crocs are comfortable right off the bat, but get better with age as the rubber shapes to your foot. I put on the Endeavors. I walked my parents’ dog in the Endeavors. I sat around the house in the Endeavors. I did this without socks for the most part. Crocs and socks are not a look I like.

Ok…here’s the tragedy…

Without the breathe holes…

Endeavor Crocs are not fun for feet. Little foot saunas. Actually, my size 11 shoes are big foot saunas.

I feel betrayed. Let down. Deep chasms of disappointment. I pictured myself teaching in Crocs next semester. I pictured year-round wear. I pictured wrong. Really wrong.

So, Croc converts and Croc resisters alike…go with Beach or Cayman. You’ll thank me later. Gifts aren’t necessary, but I do have my eye on Sage Beach. As soon as I sell the Endeavors on ebay…

I got an e-mail from the retailer thanking me for my return of the shoes. The shoes I am wearing right now. Odd, I thought. I figured there was a mix-up. Then I got a credit for the shoes to my card. Both pair.

Thusly…a moral dilemma. Should I:

1) Tell the retailer?

2) Not tell the retailer?

Honey and I discussed. I should say that the retailer is large and charges what honey would call “full-pop retail” for the shoes. In fact, they charge $10 more than the website of the company that made the shoes. I use the retailer occasionally because they have a huge selection and don’t charge for shipping.

Meantime, I grew more fond of the shoes. So did Honey.

In finally decided I could live with the following scenario…

Don’t tell them, but order another two pair of shoes from them. Then, it’s like Honey and I got our very own two-for-one sale. Honey even picked out MORE expensive shoes for the second go-around.

If you feel moved to comment, tell me what you would have done.

Oh, and here are the shoes in question:

____
We got no trick-or-treaters last night. Honey thinks it’s because our neighbors think we’re witches. Or lesbians. Whatever.

The yellow crocs were lonely.

So I bought them some friends.

They had some small talk and decided to mingle.

And all was happy in croc land. Because navy had met butter. And they liked each other.

Here are the details:

Crocs Cayman Clogs
Size: Large (Sporks has big ol’ feet.)
Color: Butter

Beautiful, aren’t they? Can I get an amen?

Timeline:
Hour -1
Honey and future clog owner (FCO) enter Sports Chalet, where the promise to “take to the limit” didn’t really appeal. Why were they there? To buy Honey water shoes.

FCO notices the Crocs flip flops. FCO gasps. FCO tries the flip flops on. They do not suit FCO (between toe hurt is palpable). FCO then puts on a pair of brown clogs. FCO dances around a little. No laughing at FCO.

FCO checks out the colors. Decides on yellow. Becomes Clog owner (CO) and $30 poorer.

Hours 1-3
Clogs ride and sit (in bag) around in the hot car. CO is a little worried they’ll melt. CO and clogs are brave.

Hour 4
Clogs arrive home. After other purchases are put away, they accompany CO (in hand) to office. Dog tries to steal them. Dog is admonished. Picture of left clog taken.

Hour 5
Blog entry written. Clog picture uploaded.

Hour 6
Famous bloggers 1 and 2 make fun of clogs in comments of blog entry. One of famous blogging duo also makes fun of clogs in private e-mail. Suggests that clogs may protect from lightning strike. CO thinks this is an added benefit.

Hours 7-9
Clogs rest comfortably under desk. This is where they go for now.

Hour 10
Presidential Candidate makes fun of CO for liking clogs in blog comments. PC suggests that CO should be called Anke Ousterhoudt.

Hours 11-19
Clogs continue to rest under desk. They are unaware that they have been maligned. Bless their hearts.

Hour 20
Clogs are put on with all black outfit. Honey assesses and argues for less contrast between somberness of outfit and clog-itude. Shirt changed to one of loud variety. Honey reassesses. Approves (sort of). CO becomes Clog Wearer (CW).

Hour 21
Clogs are helpful in driving. They also get several looks in Starbucks. CW decides fellow Starbucks patrons are jealous. She resists telling them where similar can be procured. Clogs come to office and are also greeted by jealousy. Clog wearer theorizes jealousy is so thick in office that no one dare speak. CW sees furtive looks. CW and clogs discuss and decide that no one wants to kiss up to CW about clogs because it’s performance evaluation time. No one wants to be untoward. CW applauds her staff’s restraint.

Hours 22-23
CW and clogs do work. Clogs are very helpful to CW. There may have been some bouncing on feet in office. Reports vary.

Hour 24
Clogs are deemed to be worthy of blog entry of their own. CW writes said entry. Discovers in doing so that “yellow” clogs are actually a color called “butter.” CW likes them even more as a result. Decides to call them buttery rubbery clogs from now on. Also decides that clog days are good days. Still contemplating whether Anke Ousterhoudt would be a better appellation for self than sporksforall or actual name.

There are many things I like about working in academia, and many things I like about working in a non-prestigious part of it. There are also things, despite my East-Coast whining, that I like about living in Southern California. These conspire nicely when it comes to shoes. When I first moved to SoCal, I had taken (in my youthful zeal) a sandals-only stance. Year round sandals. No matter the weather. Ah, youth. I’ve wandered in my sandal loyalties from Birkenstocks to Doc Martens to Tevas to my current Teva-Keen mixed marriage.

I heart my Keens.

Anyway, I have now “grown up” and have some shoes where my toes aren’t shown. What I like about them mostly is that I can wear my snail socks.

But my relationship with my socks is too complicated to be collapsed into this one post. It’s a bit like how I could NOT talk about my relationship with my ass during my hand revelation last week.

Back to the shoes…earlier this week, I was discussing via e-mail with Scouster and the chief cowgirl in the Wannabe Corral where my shoes should go when I take them off. Scout suggested that everyone knew the answer to this question. By which I take it, she meant that any fool (me) should know that they go in the closet. With all the Republican gays.

There are a number of theories about why my shoes end up where they do, many of which might fall into the TMI category. Mostly, I take them off wherever I stop first. Bathroom, kitchen, under the desk, front hallway. I can’t ever find the pair I want. But it’s kind of like looking at a very easy Easter egg hunt for eggs (or like the Stones sang). You find the shoes you find. They may or may not be the shoes you need.

The good thing is that because I’m a lesbian (gasp, someone cover the children’s eyes!) academic, I have only comfortable shoes in mostly neutral colors. Whichever shoes I encounter will probably also match my comfortable clothing that has just the hint of a professional look to it. See how good my life is?

I was standing behind the Prez of this here Uni at commencement and noticed she had on sandals. I suggested to the nearest chair of an ethnic studies department (there are several, this one was closest) that we could wear sandals if the Prez could. The Prez turned around, looked me up and down and nodded very slowly. Sandals it is at Commencement 07. I’ll wear my “nice” Tevas. They look a little like I’m an extra on the set of Rome. The lack of a tunic gives me away, though.

Ok, so here’s the deal. Share out in comments (let’s see if this is more globally interesting to people than bad music):

What your shoe aesthetic is;

and

Where shoes “go” in your home.

As for me, today was a Teva day. My Keens from yesterday are in the front hall. I have tripped over them twice. Still, that’s where they go. At least for today.