Tag: shoes

Filling the Gaps in My Giddyup

The other day at Maj Jong, yes I said Maj Jong, a friend walked in to play. Another looked at me and said,” look at her feet.” I looked down and she was wearing two different shoes.

They were similar, but one was a darker shade and different texture.

I laughed out loud. Not to make fun of my friend, but from sheer relief knowing I wasn’t the only one.

Lately I’ve been thinking, well, that thinking is actually becoming a luxury. I find myself needing to focus on one thing to get it done right when I used to do at least three things at a time with little effort.

Those days are sadly gone. And I’m not referring to the times I walk into a room and forget why.

When leaving physical therapy the other day, a thought occurred to me…my body has now learned a new talent. Compensation. That’s right, even at my age I am still learning.

When I tore my rotator cuff the doctor strongly suggested I have surgery. I suggested just as strongly that I try PT first. I decided it was worth trying the least painful method before subjecting myself to an invasive procedure. So I took myself to PT determined to fix a broken and badly torn up shoulder.

My doctor was skeptical and assumed I’d be back and sign up for the procedure shortly. He was wrong. Never underestimate the cowardly.

What I noticed after beginning the work of forcing my muscles to do the work of the torn pieces of my shoulder, was that they were not exactly thrilled by the prospect.

But I wasn’t any more thrilled at the thought of having surgery so I persisted.

After a while they gave in. Oh sure the tear is still there, but my other muscles have compensated and I can use my arm.

I suppose that at a certain age it becomes all for one and one for all where our bodies and minds are concerned.

We become good at compensating for the parts that don’t work very well any longer, and we fall into patterns that will allow us to keep trudging along.

Much like an old car that needs repairs constantly to keep running.

And running is something my body wants no part of, compensation or not.

If it’s true that necessity is the mother of invention, our bodies are a real mother.

They somehow find a way to offset the parts of us that have slowed down. Or others that refuse to work at their previous at all some days.

Sometimes without even being aware it’s happening. Finding a way to continue with the activities we once took for granted can suddenly become a challenge. Yet there is no doubt we must battle to do so.

Much like hearing our whole lives that if one loses a sense, the other four become more acute.

It should be no surprise to us that our brain finds a way to continue using our bodies in the way to which we have become accustomed.  

The brain is the ultimate computer, yet like all electronics it becomes obsolete as new updates are installed.

My Iphone and computer stopped communicating so one had to go.

However, unlike manmade technology the brain has unlimited new circuits and programs one can install. It is a great manager and an untapped resource.

They say we only use a small part of our brain capacity. If so, our bodies should be able to adapt and form new wiring as needed.

The experts say AI will help us to achieve this. Perhaps, but in the interim we are on our own. Many say learning new things like a language opens new pathways in the brain. Pretty much I’ve found it just adds more stuff in there to forget.

Adapting and compensating for the things that don’t work as well as they once did is on us.

I guess we can help it along by being open to new ways of thinking, moving and caring for our bodies.

I suppose there are many ways to continue at a healthy pace. At least doctors and researchers say so.  Little things we do each day can either help us slow down aging or speed it up.

Despite the pep talks, we all seem to age differently. I have friends who play pickleball while I opt for retail cardio to exercise.

Some find themselves slowed down considerably mentally and physically, while others move about as though no time passed at all.

Is it luck? Is it genes? Or is it a result of past choices? Beats the hell out of me. Perhaps in the end it’s a combo of all of those.

Food, exercise, using our brain, staying in motion, yata yata yata is all supposed to play a part. I haven’t the nerve to tell my body parts that chocolate is on the endangered list. No way I’m going there.

Whatever the answer it’s a simple fact we all could do better in some ways. And should we always be grateful to still be here and schlepping along, peak performance or not? For sure. We definitely should. Life can be enjoyable in new ways and surprises we never expected, so moving forward optimistically is always the way to go.  

Whatever our limitations, hopefully ending up with matching shoes each morning should at least be within our reach. Boy these walking shoes all look alike now where is the mate to this…?

We Must Fight to Keep the Shopping Gene Alive

As the story goes men are hunters and gatherers and women are nurturers. Oh please don’t start with me about the whole woke stuff, my generation accepts the old ways. Sort of like the Jedi and the teachings of Yoda and Obi Wan. “Shopping do we must.”

It’s a well-known fact that men hunt, but it’s also true that women scavenge also. Just not in the forest. Our jungle is the mall.

We hunt for bargains in clothing and objects to buy that will bring us a sense of satisfaction.

I mean let’s be honest here, finding your favorite shoes 75% off is a rush that brings jubilation. There is even a certain shopping smile one can recognize on the face of a woman who comes home laden down with treasures after a day at the mall.

So the other day my friend Jan and I were shopping at a store in Beverly Hills. In a blissful state of excitement just to be in the midst of gorgeous clothing, handbags and of course shoes, we were shocked to find the number of salespeople far outnumbered customers.

Now it’s not that we need an army to shop alongside us of course. However, there is a certain shopping energy that women absorb when they are in hunting or as we know it shopping mode.

In language men can understand it’s as though there is one prize deer and every hunter in the forest is out to bag it. Yes, I know gross.

But that’s kind of the same energy a woman feels at the after Christmas sale at Bloomingdales as she seeks out the perfect sweater to go with her new slacks.

It’s not just that the shopping energy has waned but there is an innate fear amongst many of us that the stores and malls will completely fade away. I mean without Black Friday America would fall into instant decline.

Many malls have already closed and more and more people are shopping online.

You can shoot a canon through many stores these days and hit no one, and that is frightening. Oh the humanity!!!

Online shopping is fine for a certain purpose. I certainly wouldn’t badmouth Amazon. The truck pulls up to my door plenty, but when you are in a store and walking around you see things you can’t see online. A pair of shoes that call to your feet, a jacket with your name on it, a handbag you’ve been wanting for ages that is now on sale. The adrenalin rush to buy it before someone else spots your prize.

These things don’t happen online.

Online is a far more focused shopping experience. More targeted toward a specific item. Yes, that works fine for a special purchase, but sitting on your tush on the computer is not the same as being out in the forest of fabrics we desire. After all, how many women can sit on the computer all day and shop? Sure we’d love to, but let’s be realistic here.

Our shopping gene needs visual contact with the merchandise.

We need to spot it in the sea of blouses on the rack as we pass by. Then we must slowly creep up on it and eye it more closely. We touch the fabric and if it awakens our senses, we move through the sizes silently hoping ours will be there.

When we find what we are seeking, we head for the dressing room carrying our prey, occasionally to be stopped by a salesperson asking, would you care to try that on?

Lord talk about an obvious question. Of course, we do. Our eyes are glazed over with anticipation. Okay special exception here; if we are bloated, we would rather try it on at home after the water weight diminishes.

After we are led to the room, we slip the silky fabric onto our body and turn toward the mirror.

Our eyes are fixed on the fit. Perfect, just as we knew it would be.

We have done it. We’ve bagged a winner and there is still a mall filled with prey we can sleuth out and capture. Women have needs.

Yes, we are hunters and gatherers and we crave our shopping fix.

So what will happen if the stores close? How will we fulfill our need to satisfy the shopping gene? That desperate urge to possess fresh new items.

I worry it will disappear, like our tails. When they were no longer necessary evolution just eliminated them from our body structure.

I dread to think that when the malls and stores are gone our shopping gene will be lost to the ages.

Can you imagine years from now women reading about a shopping gene they once possessed, but has gone forever.

Two future teenagers look up from their computers and one texts the other?

What’s a shopping gene? Puzzled emoji.

The other texts back, I don’t know, look it up online. Annoyed emoji.

Shopping gene: A genetic predisposition by women to enter stores and seek out clothing shoes and other items. This was accomplished traveling in pairs, groups or alone. It was done in a place called a store, either standing alone or in a mall.

She texts back what’s a mall? Question mark emoji.

Look it up I’m on reels here. Annoyed emoji annoyed emoji.

A mall: a place where people shopped that contained stores and restaurants.

She texts…that sounds cool, why don’t we have them anymore? Smiling emoji.

No one cares, we don’t shop now, we just take what is sent to us. It works fine. Are you complaining? Scary emoji.

No, no I’m fine with it, I have no desire to drag around in stores looking for stuff to buy. Laughing emoji.

Good then let’s get back to our computer staring. Who cares about ancient history? Disgusted emoji.

Wow, the other one texts. Did you know that America was a country that used to have restaurants where you could eat inside? Surprised emoji.

No but that would be kind of awful because you’d have to actually sit and talk to people face to face. Yucky emoji.

I know, boy those people were primitive! Shocked emoji.

LOLOL emoji sent back.

And that my fellow mall seekers is how the shopping gene will disappear. So girls it’s imperative we shop as much as possible to avoid losing vital parts of us we desperately need.

However, if I could just do something about losing that chocolate-craving gene I’d be so fine with that. Sad emoji. Fat emoji.

Shoes at Least

                                 Shoes at Least

 ‘The time has come, ‘the walrus said, ‘to talk of many things: of shoes and ships-and sealing wax-of cabbages and kings.’ Lewis Carroll

Shoes are ironic. Oh I know no one actually would say that or perhaps even think as I do about the true meaning of shoes, but women understand shoes are not simply pieces of leather sewn together, but a religious experience. Women worship at the Temple of Manolo. And I must agree with Marilyn Monroe when she famously said, “Give a girl the right pair of shoes and she can conquer the world.” From Louboutin to Nine West, women can work a heel.

But I should get back to the ironic part. When I was young I adored shoes and wore Capezios all the time. Every new pair and new color that was produced found its way into my closet. 

My father used to ask, “What do you need more shoes for?” 

Poor guy never got it. Dad, women don’t need shoes, we crave them like chocolate when we’re PMSing. Helps fill in the other 20 days a month and keep us on an even keel.

So the irony here, despite my father’s constant puzzlement about my addiction, is that when you’re older and have the money to finally give in to your habit. When your children are all out of the house, when you have enough money too keep your grandchildren in Lego sets, when it’s all about you and your shoeboxes, and you don’t need those running shoes anymore, the unthinkable happens.

Your damn feet start aching.  

“Why do they hurt,” you ask. 

Usually from wearing all those fabulous heels when you were younger and now you have hammertoes and planters fasciitis or heel spurs, flatfeet, corns, bunyans and all kinds of evil gremlins that keep you from sliding your foot into the gorgeous Manolo with the four-inch heel.

Ouch. 

Of course you panic. Why wouldn’t you? Your closet is filled to the brim with fabulous footwear. Magnificent specimens of foot coverings that make your friends drool and your feet ache undamnbelieveably.

So it’s off to the podiatrist we go. 

“Doc my arch is killing me and I can’t seem to stand in these heels anymore.”

He examines the shoe you hold up for him to see and a smirk crosses his face. 

Aha he thinks, the moment of bliss for him is the moment of sorrow for you. You are at odds. For now your feet belong to him and not to those fabulous Jimmy Choos you are trying to avoid wetting with your tears.

Okay, so aren’t there worse things in life than simply not being able to wear high heels anymore?

Well of course there are, but that’s the point. Shoes are a metaphor for life. In a nutshell they are the perfect example for where it all leads, the meaning of life, the ultimate screw you from the universe.

Just when you think you have it all, the universe steps in and laughs. “Kidding” it says and takes it all away.

Oh I’m not talking about the Monolos I’m talking about life.

I use shoes because it is easy for my female readers to relate to the joy of slipping into a pair of four-inch heels and admiring the turn of a calf. Or the way you feel glamorous and fabulous and ready to face the world armed and dangerous in those open-toed spikes.

For men I must use a different metaphor. It’s when you retire and can play golf all day and you tear your rotator cuff.

But life can be a cruel master as we’ve all seen far too many times.

The ability to rationalize is the most important and underappreciated human talent.

I myself am a gold medal winner in the sport and I know many of my friends compete with me on a daily basis.

Why is rationalization the key to a happy life?

So often we hear the phrase we must live our lives in gratitude. We must count our blessings and accept happily what we have been given.

And I’m not saying that’s bad advice. 

Heavens no. It’s important to exist in a state of gratitude. But can we truly achieve that end without the use of copious amounts of rationalization?

Oh well you wore stunning shoes all those years and all good things must end. At least they make so many adorable flats now. It doesn’t matter be grateful you had so many years with Jimmy Choo. What about girls who started with flat feet and could you show some gratitude here?

And we must. Because that is how we cover the disappointments we face, the losses we must accept and the pain of mistreatment by others.

My favorite is; it’s not your fault, people like that don’t know better, they’re pitiful, at least you’re not like them so pray they eventually realize what awful people they are. (But of course they never do.) 

Okay, sure, you’re right, they are awful and I should feel sorry for them, but when you’re someone’s victim isn’t it okay to feel bad for yourself?

I understand we need to rationalize. It’s the best way to get through it all.

My brother died recently. He had just sold his business, bought a home on a golf course and was finally at last able to succumb to his addiction for hitting that little ball across a fairway and have lots of time to play with his grandchildren.

But life had other plans. Life said screw you, I don’t think so.

And so we were forced to rationalize once more. At least he had so many years; he lived so well, yata yata yata.

It’s what we do to survive, to try and make sense of it all. The irony that life uses as its own little private parlor game.

Oh so you think you’ll retire and enjoy life, guess again.

Oh so you think you’ll be dancing in those shoes after you hike up Machu Pichu, au contraire, but check out these new old lady shoes, hot huh?

So you think that after struggling for years to achieve your goals and make it in business you got this covered.

Guess again, your new factory just burned to the ground before the insurance kicked in. Too bad but at least you weren’t inside the building right?

The sore toes are a foreshadowing of what life truly is. It’s an ironic series of disappointments, missteps and tragic moments we are forced to justify by rationalizing using the words at least. 

Someone once said the most powerful word in the English dictionary is “if”.

I would like to propose the two most powerful and important words are at least. For all rationalizations begin with those two little words.

At least we have humor to help get us through bad times, at least we have wonderful memories, at least he didn’t suffer, at least we can stay away from people who hurt us and at least we’re not them and the list is endless.

But so far no one has been able to use the words at least to stop the pain of losing those we love.

I guess we’ll have to do our best to keep going and rationalizing our way through life.

I’d love to continue this conversation but these new shoes are killing me and I have to go put on my slippers. At least they are comfortable.

May life be good for you and may you have few occasions to use the words at least.

I Shop Therefore I am Please Save The Malls!

shopping

I Shop Therefore I am

Please Save The Malls!

There is a point when things get out of hand. When lines are crossed and deeds done that can’t be undone.

This damn virus has now placed all ten toes across my damn line!

Death, suffering, sickness, house arrest, not being able to see my children and grandchildren up close and personal, people losing everything they have, no parties, movies, events, concerts and Lord knows all the sacrifices we’ve all had to make for this curse from the east, but now I find out malls want us to pull up and curbside pick up. What?

The stores that will be left standing and I can’t even speak about such icons of the retail world as Saks Fifth Avenue and Neiman Marcus going under, the pain is too great, but curbside pick up?

I heard other malls are toying with the idea of giving out numbers in the parking lot to tell you when you can enter the stores. In the meantime coffee shops and restaurants will call you in your car to offer you food while you’re waiting.

Now men may be fine with this brave new shopping world because most don’t like to shop anyway, (have you ever tried to get your husband away from the football game to shop for new shirts?) but women? Listen up retailers. Women must use their shopping gene or it will damage our psyche.

Okay universe you’ve had your fun, now honestly stop threatening to close malls. My heart can’t take anymore.

Amazon is fine when you’re bored, in quarantine, need something in a hurry, lazy or can’t find what you’re looking for in the stores.

It’s a perfect shopping distraction when you’re on the phone listening to someone bore your ass off, but is it a substitute for actual shopping? I think not.

Women need retail therapy. It’s like the air we breathe. Feeling clothing, trying on shoes until you make a shoe salesperson cry, these are rites of passage for a female. Age, race, economic circumstances, career woman or mom, size, education, married or single, it matters not. Shopping is the great equalizer for my gender. It’s like Spanx because every woman can find a size to fit her.

Racks of blouses, jeans, dresses or sweats are not just fabric to us; they are mother’s milk, endearing and special. We need to see these choices up close and become one with them. Their fabric and prints call to us and we bond.

We crave a sale sign that says 50% off. This is serious stuff here, these experiences comfort and soothe us.

There are consequences for a woman when she is unable to walk through a store, reject the perfume sprayer and salivate over the shoe department. We could develop terrible diseases like high blood pressure, anxiety or even have a mental collapse. We’re built to shop and if we can’t it’s a shock to our nervous systems.

There is a special feeling when the Mac girl offers to do your make up and that new eye shadow is simply perfect. Or Benefits opens an eyebrow bar and you finally find a color that doesn’t make you look like Groucho Marx.

Does any man understand what it does to a woman’s blood pressure when she spies that fabulous black cashmere sweater she has been salivating over at half off?

Yoga is fine to relieve stress but a 75% off sale adds years back to a woman’s life.

For women shopping is therapy.

Only at the mall can a woman pick up a pound of chocolate covered gummy bears and find the leather jacket of her dreams in one place. Plus, there’s always a place to sit and calm down after a session of trying on bathing suits.

Malls are healing and they make us happy after the world has collapsed. When your mother in law has spent the weekend visiting…a new sweater.

When your husband refuses to clean the garage after six months of begging…new shoes. Your boss asks you to make him coffee…a new handbag. When your perfect angel uses your freshly painted walls as a canvas for his latest Picasso… another pound of chocolate gummies, please.

I have a theory that Stonehenge is actually the remnants of a parking structure for the first mall in England.

Women meet at the mall to shop, eat lunch, play cards or maj jong and hunt for the perfect new piece for their wardrobe. Can you check out online how your ass looks in those skinny jeans?

It’s serious to a woman and a need that can’t be filled by any parking lot waiting, curbside picking up or online perusing. These are all nice sides to the meal but the real star of dinner is the filet mignon…the mall!

We shop, we forget. We seek, we relax, we hunt, we feel pride, we score a bargain, and we brag to every friend who will listen.

You can’t take shopping away from a woman and not cause severe psychological damage. Like backing up in a parking lot and blowing out your tires.

Shopping is calming and soothes the savage breast to bring us to an enlightened state. Does any woman not know the joy of unearthing that perfect accessory to complete an outfit?

We share the experience with friends, “Deb, this black blouse is perfect for that wedding in January. Randi, you so need this rhinestone encrusted sweater to go with those new jeans. Guys is this not the perfect jacket to go with my new pants?” “Janet, get out of your comfort zone and try on this blouse. Karen, you need to return ten pairs of those shoes you ordered!”

We don’t just shop for ourselves, but for all women, it’s a bonding experience, we pursue, we track, we discover, then we celebrate.

Women share coupons. It’s not just important for us to save on that new outfit, but for our friends as well.

Would a man reach into his purse at the cashier and say, “Here take this 20% off coupon, I don’t need it?”

Oh some may mock and point fingers, but has anyone ever gone home empty handed from a Tupperware party?

Malls are group think, a herd mentality when the thrill of the hunt is heightened by the sheer fact there is competition for the prize. We need to get to those shoes on the sale rack before that woman eyeing them on my left.

You may think I’m exaggerating a bit, but think of how much you’ve missed the mall. After your hairdresser and manicurist, it’s our first stop.

Don’t take away our malls; women need a place to escape to when overloaded by our busy lives and empty closets. Men have sports, we have shopping.

Small or large, strip or giant they are one part of our lives we need to fight to protect. Otherwise we will turn around one day and just like our youth, they will we gone.