ife is what happens while you're making other plans. And I sure got my dose of reality last week. When last you visited your friendly online clog blogger, I was raving about my new "favorite shoes ever," my just acquired Jeffrey Campbell Litas in a size larger than I'd been buying. Little did I realize what moving from a size 11 to a size 12 would mean for my feet. And so when I signed off last Monday or whenever, I had every intention of going the distance and making it an "all Litas, all the time" week.
But the universe had other ideas.
That very night when I finally stopped surfing the web for shoes, I clomped into my bedroom to get undressed and discovered that my brand new via eBay Litas were missing the top lift on one shoe. The term may seem like a misnomer (like "stage right" or "stage left" to the uninitiated), but when you're a cordwainer with a shoe under construction in your workshop, it makes perfect sense. If the heel lift you put inside your shoe gives you some additional height, the thin piece of rubber of that gets attached to the very bottom of your heel (from the wearers' perspective) adds its own extra elevation or lift to the shoe. But upside down on the cordwainer's workbench, the bottom of the shoe becomes the top. And that little reveals itself now to be the top lift.
Has enlightenment dawned for you as it did for me?
Suffice it to say, when your top lifts are properly in place, walking is a secure experience. But make one of them go away, and your heel will interact with a hard surface such as concrete or floor tile in a variety of unexpected ways. I found my left foot occasionally sliding on the green room floor where I work. And in the garage where I park, the sound of my left heel striking the pavement seemed out of balance with my right. Sure enough, when I finally pulled my shoes off at the end of the day, the left Lita's heel was nothing but a bare piece of wood on the bottom. (Or top.) And instead of reveling in a week's indulgence with this pair of shoes, I packed it up the next day with another pair of Litas (the dark green patent pair with the Lucite heels that had themselves become loose with wear) and made plans to use my lunch break to spirit them both the best shoe repair shop I know of in Chicago and have them work their magic.
They said it would take a week, and I have to admit, it's been tough fighting the urge to call them daily to see whether my Litas are ready. But soon they'll be back in the rotation here, and I'll resume my plan to investigate how many outfits I can piece together to wear with them. Somehow it feels like a personal challenge worth undertaking.
Normally I'd post a "shoefie" of those new Litas, but a quick sprint through the photos in my iPhone reveals that I don't have anything share besides the pic you've seen already. So how about I offer something that will be entertaining in its own way, the April Fools Day product video announced a couple weeks ago by Miz Mooz. Say, "Cheese!"