The Reasons Behind My Shoe Fetish

I own a lot of shoes. I own so many shoes I have run out of places to store them all. I am what you would call “shoe-crazy”. I am by no means the world’s most shoe-crazy person, however I am in the top 10. There are actually a few different categories of “shoe-crazy”, and everyone falls into one of these groups:

1. Shoe-Repulsed: Owns the bare minimum of shoes. This person wears his or her one (maybe two) pair of shoes every day, regardless of the weather, attire, or function he or she is attending. Buying shoes to this person is a nightmare, and the very thought of having shoes is repulsive.
2. Shoe-Conservative: Has multiple pairs of shoes, however no more than one pair for each purpose. For instance, one pair of dress shoes, one pair of running shoes, one pair of sandals, and one pair of winter boots. Depending on age, occupation and geographical location, these “shoe categories” may change slightly. Buying shoes to this person is not a joyous occasion and is done as little as possible. Like the Shoe-Repulsed individual, the fewer shoes the better. Often someone classified as a Shoe-Conservative will attempt to get “double duty” out of shoes, such as wearing running shoes in place of dress shoes.
3. Shoe-Lover: Believes that each outfit must have a carefully selected pair of shoes. This person sees shoes as accessories, and values a little originality when choosing footwear. He or she has a closet full of shoes, ranging in style and colour, however still has a great deal of “shoe needs”. For instance, he or she may only have one pair of shoes for each occasion, thus a need for style and colour variety exists.
4. Shoe-Crazy: This is me. This person has multiple shoes for each occasion, ranging in colour, texture, and sometimes even size. He or she loves shopping for shoes, and believes that one can never have enough footwear. The shoe-crazy person has run out of storage room for his or her shoes, and relies on creative methods of either displaying the shoes or cramming them into the closet. The shoe-crazy person may not remember all of the shoes they own.
5. Shoe-Obsessed: One step away from insanity. This person spends as much as possible on shoes and accessories. He or she often will have shoes practically identical, or custom matched to outfits. If this person buys a new shirt, they also buy several pairs of new shoes to match. This person has no room in his or her house, as every square inch is taken up with shoes. Often he or she will have entire wings of the house devoted to shoe storage.

I am somewhere between shoe-crazy and shoe-obsessed.

However there is a very reasonable explanation for my craziness. It is because of other people’s pets. How are shoes and animals related, you ask? Animals are just as obsessed with my shoes as I am.

The first incident occurred when I was 3 years old. My mother had bought me a new pair of red sandals. I loved those shoes. They were the prettiest shade of red, and had some little flowers on them. I remember wearing them all day, and finally deciding to take them off so I could go swimming. The very thought of these wonderful shoes not being on my feet depressed me, however my mother was quite insistent that shoes could not be worn in the pool. Gradually I forgot about my shoes and enjoyed being pulled around the pool in a raft by my father.

Then I heard my mother yelling. We quickly got out of the pool and to my horror my shoes were being devoured by my parent’s dog Bear. Bear was an odd dog. He was half wolf and half husky, making him strong, stubborn and un-trainable. No amount of yelling could stop Bear. My shoes were gone. Eaten by my parent’s dog. (After this incident Bear stopped being my dog. I wanted nothing to do with the shoe-eater).

I was depressed. I was a 3 year old, and therefore did not have that many shoes! I had suffered a great loss. Thus began the cycle of shoe collecting. I figured that the more I had, the less it would hurt if one pair managed to get eaten. However, being three I still depended on my mother for my shoe purchases. She was not quite as willing to buy her toddler daughter oodles of shoes. So the desire just festered until I was a teenager.

During my final year of high school I visited some family in Maryland. By this time I had amassed quite the collection of footwear. Like any shoe-lover (I had not reached the ‘shoe-crazy’ stage yet) I brought a large section of my collection with me when I traveled. One pair that accompanied me almost everywhere sat neatly by my Aunt’s front door. They were tan, comfortable, with a bit of a platform – very cool. It was during a friendly game of euchre when I heard my aunt’s dog Shadow munching on something in the hallway. I turned to see the black beast using my shoe as a chew toy. I shrieked, ran to the poor shoe, and managed to save it before total annihilation. However, the damage was done. The shoe was scared, mangled, and un-wearable. I was reliving that summer afternoon when I lost my first pair of shoes to a dog. Now, Shadow is a wonderful dog and I love him to bits. At that moment though, I wanted him to take a long walk off of a short Pier.

Combine this incident with another traumatizing occurrence the same weekend, and you have a full blown discussion at therapy. The next day my aunt wanted to show us her new pet bird. Newton was big, white and squawked a lot. I have no idea what kind of bird he is, but the thing is odd looking. He was just a baby, so apparently he needed to learn how to behave. My aunt had this giant white bird on her arm, and asked my mom if she wanted to hold it. Mom let Newton hop onto her arm, and both mom and bird seemed to be at ease. It was my turn next. I don’t trust birds. They creep me out. But, this is my aunt’s new ‘baby’, so I made an attempt. I stretched out my arm, and Newton stepped on. The bird ran right up my arm and perched himself on my shoulder. I was nervous. My aunt said that there was nothing to be scared of.

At that moment the bird got it in his head that he wanted to “play”. He started pecking at my hair, and I started moving my head out of his way. This apparently was a game to the fat bird. I guess I was winning, and Newton was a sore loser, because when I stopped moving my head the bird went for my eye. The dang bird tried to eat my eyeball. He tried to peck my eye out. I almost got my eye pecked out by a fat, white squawking bird.

When I flung him off of me I think I had a little breakdown. Between losing a shoe and almost losing an eye, I was not a happy girl. (Side Note – Newton is a nice bird and everyone but me loves him. When I visit my family in the US I stay clear of him, and he stays clear of me)

A few years later I was house sitting for a co-worker. This woman’s house is beautiful. Nothing was ever out of place. Her pets were always well-behaved and sweet, making it an easy decision when asked if I would essentially live at her house for a week while she traveled. By this point I was full blown shoe-crazy. This meant that I traveled with enough shoes to fill a suitcase. I was cautious with my shoes around other people’s pets at this point, so all of my footwear was kept in the closet. The week began fine, with the dog and cat being little angels. By Wednesday they were restless, often waking me up the middle of the night or grabbing food off the counter as I was making dinner. Ok, I can handle that. They miss their mommy and daddy. Poor babies.

Then the dog broke into the closet and stole one of my boots. I loved these boots. They were black, came up to my knee and had a heel. I was doing some statistics work in the basement and did not hear her leave to go upstairs. When I turned around to check on her, she had my black boot in her mouth. It was covered in dog-drool, and torn to bits. Oh no. I loved those boots. The cat just sat and watched, with this “ha-ha you suck” expression. I couldn’t tell if little Kitty was smirking at me losing my boot, or that the dog was going to get into trouble. Either way, little Kitty was pleased as punch.

I spent the evening picking up little bits of my boots from around the house. The dog had crossed the line, and had to go outside for several minutes while I collected myself. A shoe-crazy person gets upset at the loss of a shoe. (Just think what a shoe-obsessed person would do!) Kitty sat by the window with a “ha-ha this is too funny. I love watching others suffer” expression.

There have been other incidents that have contributed to my shoe-fetish, however these three dogs have had the most effect. I think if another one of my shoes is lost to other people’s pets, I am going to go absolutely shoe-obsessed.