Embracing “old lady” shoes. Maybe.

“You cheated on me??!” I exclaimed when I saw the tell tale box in the back of her car. Yep. My mom went shoe shopping without me. A hanging offense, basically.

Over the last several years, shoes have become our bonding activity. Birthdays and Christmases usually involve cards with “Shoe date” IOUs inside. We enjoy similar tastes and unfortunately, similar problems in the shoe department. Our excellent balance (read: big feet) makes selection an issue, and we constantly have to weigh the desire for cuteness with the ability to stand for long periods of time. Hair dressers and teachers need good shoes.

However, the last time I went shopping for school shoes without supervision, I came back with two sets of delicious heeled sandals, the kind designed for dinner-and-a-movie dates, not standing. When mom suggested a trip to The Walking Company recently, a place with comfort shoes, I was willing but skeptical.

We walked in and I admit, my nose wrinkled at the array of clogs and orthotics. Old lady shoes! Danskos blown up to size 10 resemble clown shoes more than anything I’ve ever seen. But I played along and picked out a few pair to try.

Damn. What a difference well-designed shoes make. Comfort. Support. Structure. After just a few minutes, I could understand the fuss.