I’ll start this off by saying I hate feet. Really I do. It’s not like the sight of them make me gag or anything, I’m not that much of a freak … but I may or may not shield my eyes during toe fungus commercials (guuuhhhh).
I mean I think if you are born with a vagina, there is something in your DNA that just makes you adore shoes. But, unfortunately, the makers of these fierce shoes really don’t have “comfort” and “foot care” listed as their number one priority whilst making a shoe. It’s more about color, fabric, heel height, platforms, red soles … oooh the options, the sweet, sweet options.
But the last time you bought a fierce pair of heels did you stop and be like, “hmm how will this shoe affect the health and wellbeing of my foot?” I’m sure you didn’t. If you are anything like me you’re just like, “SHINY THINGS … MINE,” and you’re done with it. But heels, at the end of the day, fuck up our feet. They just do.
I never really thought about it nor gave a shit until I recently started seeing my shoes getting the same worn down circles where the side of my foot lives within them. I had no idea what it was all about or what it meant. I was just pissed that my shoes were looking more worn than they actually were.
It wasn’t until my brother looked down at my bare foot and was like, “DEAR GOD … THAT BUNION!” Uhhh what? For some reason, my understanding of a “bunion” was that it was like a wort or some unsightly mass that would scare small children into the arms of their parents. Right? I mean even the word itself is absolutely cringeworthy.
Never once did I think a bunion was simply your foot bones acting a fool due to poor, restricting footwear. Even worse, never once did I think it could happen to me (wow … I feel like I’m on a Lifetime special right now … tonight’s movie: the sad girl and her bunion).
All those years of wearing shoes that were too small for me because I didn’t want to accept the fact that I was a size 9, and then when I fell down the rabbit hole of wearing 4 inch heels. And now, I’m a commuter who refuses to be one of those women who rock sneakers on the train and switch into heels at work. Carrie Bradshaw never did it … now did she? But looking back, that bitch probably had INSANE bunions.
So here I am, 28 years old … with bunions that are absolutely destroying the sides of my shoes. You would think I would care. That I would be like investing in orthopedic footwear. But alas … I’m not. Because I’m an idiot. And because I don’t want to let these bunions win, God dammit (also did I mention I’m an idiot, because if I keep up with this behavior, of course they are going to win).
I’ve already accepted the fact that one day I will have to get that insanely painful surgery to remove said bunions and not be able to walk like a normal individual for a certain period of time. I’ve become one with it. I’ve owned it. I’m okay with it … kind of.
These uncomfortable shoes we wear and that are the cause of bunions are the ones that make us connected to our femininity, and make us feel like rockstars. While I desperately wish Dr. Scholls looked like Loubs … they don’t, and probably never will.
The things we do for fashion, right? Sigh. But hey, I did this to myself. I’ve own it and accepted it. But I have no regrets. Well … maybe pretending I was a size 8 when in reality I am a size 9. That was fucking stupid, self. But when it comes to all the amazing shoes I’ve put on my feet over the years… I regret nothing. NOTHING, I say.
On a different note, a facility should be established, much like the “spas” where women go to get “refreshed,” where you can go have bunion surgery and recover in peace, whilst drinking wine, eating carbs, and lounging by a pool. I think I’m on to something, right?