This weekend I went shopping in my own closet. Convinced that I had sandals that were a little more 1st birthday party friendly than something with a platform, I started digging through the blue bin.
The blue bin is my answer to keeping shoe boxes. It's basically a giant shoe box that I rotate shoes through on a seasonal basis. Or at least that's the theory. In actuality it ends up being stuff I don't wear a lot, shoes I forgot about, and boots that are big and have laces that get tangled in everything and don't fit anywhere.
Strappy black sandals; I forgot about you.
Chinese print sandals: I love you, but do remember you scrape my foot and only go with a few outfits.
Zebra print Kenneth Cole! I totally forgot about your existence. Let's be friends again.
Black satin sandals with rhinestones and a ribbon tie; you don't go with anything.
Doc Martens that have been in hiding since the '90s, buckle patent leather boots that I bought after getting into a fight with the sales guy at 99th Floor in Chicago, and lots, and lots of black shoes. Why is there so much black in storage?
Elated that the summer isn't over I pulled out pair after pair of sandal, each one more forgotten and less functional than the previous.
By the time it was over, I had found more than eight pairs of shoes, probably won't wear half of them, was disappointed that I ever bought kitten heels, and still hadn't found something entirely casual and appropriate enough for Princess's 1st birthday.
But she doesn't really care what shoes I was wearing, because she got to eat cake.