Sensible Shoes - Gripe

I am a pragmatist at heart, as much as I hate to admit it because it sounds boring as hell, and I fancy myself as the adventurous sort. However, when it comes to certain decisions, I tend to go with the option that ticks the greatest number of “sensible” boxes. Having a low pain tolerance and even lower frustration level, I generally go with comfy shoes if I will be on my feet for long periods of time. So that means that every day, I wear Clarks.

Yep, you read it right: Clarks. What is good about a pair of Clarks shoes, you may ask? A number of dull, mundane things, really. They are durable - my current, every day pair have been in use for six years, and they have at least twice that left in them. They accommodate orthotics nicely. I’ve got problem feet due to miles and miles of running in my more foolish days. Clarks have rubber soles which means that the pavement is far more forgiving, and I can touch electric fencing without feeling anything more than a gentle tingle. And in case you are wondering, yes I have tested this, but wouldn’t advise anyone to try it at home or in a field far from medical help.

What is bad about a pair of Clarks? Well, they are just so sensible and durable that the pragmatist in me can’t throw them out, even if they are five years out of fashion. All right, they probably never were in fashion. Usually I can’t see what they look like on my feet, except for the ariel view. Not too bad, black, decent, if basic, shape. However, a few weeks ago, I had a haircut, and since I walked to the salon, I wore my Clarks. For the first time in all these years, I saw what they look like from the front. Utterly embarrassed, I am on a mission to find some new comfy shoes.

Sadly, I’ve yet to find a pair of shoes that meet the needs of both fashion and function. A big dilemma is avoiding that whole, “I dress like my teenaged children” syndrome, which is only acceptable if you are Amish, which clearly, I am not. So the other night, I ignored my inner pragmatist and wore a very impractical, very high heeled, pair of suede boots to a gig at the Liquid Rooms.

There actually was a method to my madness. Usually at these things, I stand in the crowd on my tip-toes, craning my neck in all directions to see whatever glimpses of the performers I can. See, I’m five feet tall. Just the five feet. Sometimes when I have to give my height, I add an inch, just to make it sound interesting. But the fact is, there is no other inch. Travis were playing an exclusive gig and they are big, so I really wanted to be able to see them. By my calculations, I’d have to be on my feet for two hours, so I felt I could tolerate the boots. I never was any good at math.

We stood in the queue at 6:45, having walked to the venue. The doors opened at 7:30 – late, and the gig ended at 10:30. So how long is that? Four hours with walking time? I won’t retell the comedy of errors that led to us walking home, but let’s just say it ended with me, boots in hand, half crawling to the only available taxi in the city centre, picking bits of gravel out of my socks, and Graeme heavily tipping the driver for his troubles over a £3 fare.

The irony is that the Clarks would have sufficed. We had arrived at the venue early enough that I got to stand in the front, with no one in front of me but the band. This surreal experience is for another entry, but let me just say I am still not over it. I didn't even feel the agony of my feet until they left the stage. However, as soon as we hit the exit, I knew the boots were a bad idea and I desperately needed to get me some new comfy shoes.

So what do I want in a new pair of shoes? Not much really. I want a bit of height, a bit of colour, a bit of fashion, and a bit of room for my inserts. And I don’t want to pay fifty quid. Needless to say, the boots are shelved for now, and the Clarks motivate me to find a way of destroying the indestructible. However, I will wear them on my next shopping trip. I’d rather face the wrath of the fashion police than my chiropodist. At this point, I’m taking suggestions. If I come up with the magic solution, I’ll let you know. Please, don’t hold your breath.