Back in 1999 and 2000 I purchased two consecutive pairs of some really great shoes — orangish-brown loafers and blood red retro sneakers. I don’t remember the day or the moment that I destined them to the trash heap, but I often think about how much I had loved them. Maybe in some blurred corner of an out-of-focus photograph you can catch a glimpse of the loafers. The other pair survives in my memory alone.
Since that time, I suppose, I have always had trouble throwing out old shoes. They seem to accumulate and multiple. Even when they are no longer worn, practically forgotten and relegated to some dreary closet or buried in a nylon shoe bag, I imitate my friend Fred’s policy towards ex-girlfriends, I don’t quite hit the eject button. Why take out the trash when you never know when something old and discarded may come back into style again? Plus, who can say when the situation may call for precisely that pair of shoes? Continue reading