Lots of women have shoe obsessions, but my current one has me dreaming about shoes much too small for my own feet. I’m obsessed about finding proper shoes for Camille, because I’m convinced it’s important for her growth, and because it’s apparently a measure of my commitment as a mother.
Karen recently made her first trip to the baby shoe store in the mall, and shared with me her sticker shock over the fact that good baby shoes cost fifty dollars. That seemed like an awful lot to me, especially since babies this age grow out of their shoes every 3 months or so.
Over the next couple of days, when I shared my disbelief with others, I soon learned that my priorities were all wrong. They were quick to point out that feet are a child’s foundation, and good shoes are worth the investment. I’ve just always been a bargain hunter, and I’m having a hard time believing I can’t bargain-shop this one.
But what they said made sense. One of them even had to buy special shoes for her son that were $198 each. That made me look like a little whiner.
So I was determined this weekend to have Camille’s feet sized, and “make the investment.”
Lee, Cami and I headed to the store, and I began browsing the rows of cute shoes. The little brown ones with a pink stripe. Some cuties with a little flower on top. We tried on several pair, but they just looked so big and the rigid soles made it difficult for Camille to maneuver. The salesperson didn’t seem so sure about the foot measurements she’d made, and called in a coworker to help.
That coworker said no to all the shoes we’d picked out, and said Camille really needed to be in shoes with laces. I was shooting for the velcro because they seemed easier and all the cute styles were velcro. But she said the laces were essential to a good fit. But if that were true, why was there only one style of laced shoes in her phase of footwear? And why did that one style have to be so ugly?
As Camille toddled around the store in them, I felt conflicted. The shoes were NOT cute. But the way the saleslady put it, I felt like I’d be a bad mother if I got anything other than the pair of shoes with laces. Ugly though they were, we paid our 50 dollars and left.
The more I thought about it, the more unsure I was that we’d made the right choice. Maybe she just wanted to get rid of that style, and that’s why she pushed those shoes on me?
If laces really are that important, then fine. I’ll pay 50 dollars to put ugly shoes on Camille if it will ensure her podiatric health. But before I throw away that receipt, I’m going to do some research and find out if I got scammed into buying ugly shoes. A few more barefoot days won’t hurt in the meantime.