Sunday, February 12, 2012

Polished Shoes

After a shoe-shopping ordeal before starting my job, I finally ordered a humongous box of shoes from Zappo's and found a pair that fit, didn't cause too much pain, would accommodate my orthoses, and met the dress-code for the job. I've worn those shoes about 180 times by now.

I finally polished them.

For being boat-sized Mary Janes, they are actually kind of cute. They were charcoal-grey, almost black, but had some pretty little white stitching on them to make them look more charming. I knew they needed to be polished, but how can you blacken and buff your shoes without wiping out that little white accent? (If any of you know how, it's too late for me now, at least with this pair of shoes. But maybe you could tell me for when I have to buy a replacement pair someday.)

Well, at least they're shiny and clean-looking again.
More boring-looking, to be sure. But shiny.


  1. You must have Dad's shoe shining genes. I never polish shoes. He polished his at least once a week. Maybe that's what he learned in the army.

  2. I don't think I have the shoe-shining genes. If I did, I would've polished these LONG before now. But there must have been something implanted in me about how important it was, just by seeing him do it so frequently.

    Hey. Wait a minute, there! I remember a bottle of white shoe polish that some woman in the house kept pulling out regularly. Maybe it's something to do with WORK-shoes as opposed to normal shoes?