Dec 2, 2018
I won them in a raffle at a clothing store. They were made of rubber and they came from Brazil. They were very blingy.
And I won them! I am repeating this because I never win everything. My grandma was lucky; she would win a bingo three times in a row. One time we had to duck out of the hall early because a small mob was forming around our table, dead set on catching her cheating.
But that day in that small town was special; I owned the lucky penny that day! I never had anyone do my make-up either. Or got to wear an expensive outfit that was worth more than my car. Nor had I ever got swagger across the street in a line up like a high-class model. But I did that day, you betcha!
Context: it was a fashion show in Taos, NM, circa 2009-ish. The boutique didn’t have a runway so we used the crosswalk in front of the little shop instead. A friend of mine worked there and she got me the gig. I think I even got some cash for the day.
After it was all over, we had a raffle. That was when I won the shoes, which was actually the most expensive thing in the lot. I even had the option of taking the cash instead, $200 buckaroos. But no, I decided to keep those blingy things, entertaining a dream of walking gracefully down a red carpet, camera flashes sparkling off those fake diamonds.
I liked them on principle as well. They were made from recycled tires and they had silvery shiny jewels are around them that were also make from recycled material.
Plus, they were so darn pretty. I thought, I can do this! I can wear them somewhere. Never mind the bunions that were just beginning to form on the sides of my feet and the fact that I spend most of my life either in flat-heeled sandals, tennies or just plain barefoot.
When I got home, I put them in my closet. And that was pretty much where they sat, collecting dust, for years. They went with me on moves, packed up in a shoe box with all the other styles. They sat in my storage for about two years as I went traveling around here and there. Every once in a while, I would take them out, slip them on and hobble around the house pretending to walk into a room full of similarly-stilettoed, glimmery folks, at an awards ceremony or at the opera. I would clip-clop around for about 5 minutes until the pain in my ankles was too much to bare and my toes went numb.
Eventually I needed the cash so I sold them on eBay. I never really wore them out anywhere, but for a long time I liked to think about the possibility. Sometimes, I still do.
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