Perhaps it’s my Filipino roots (remember Imelda Marcos and her 7,000 pairs of shoes?) or perhaps its because I am a woman, or perhaps it’s a combination of both, but I am a shoe whore. I never realized that I had 41 pairs of shoes amassed in my shoe cabinet until I did my annual wardrobe “stocktake” over the Christmas holidays. I’m sure the Carrie Bradshaws and Carrie Bradshaw-wannabies would scoff at and “pffffft” over my meager collection of 41, but given my humble educational publishing wage, I found the number rather appalling and a bit disturbing.
After much debate with Eoin (especially over those green converse sneakers) and sounding like Gretel Killeen on a Big Brother eviction night (“It’s time to go… CAMPER SUEDES!”), I got rid of ten. It bothers me that there is now a whole empty row in my shoe rack, but I will do my best to avoid filling that void until E becomes president of the Philippines and declares martial law for the next 20 years.