Spanish Dancer Shoes

I might have a shoe problem.

Really.

It’s a problem especially now that I live alone and there is no one to stop me from my madness. 

As I write this, the one side of my king-sized bed is covered in new boxes.  The government called it an economic stimulus.  I called it New Shoes! 

I went overboard.

I have written many times about why I have a shoe addiction – those ugly black and white saddle shoes  — corrective shoes prescribed by a podiatrist.   I hated them.  A visceral strong pulse of hate.  Loathed them.  Stretch that word out –Looooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaathhhhhhhhhhhhhhed.

But I’ve never talked about my favorite shoes.

Imagine.

I’ve had many shoes that I’ve loved — worn to tatters.  Which ones are my favorite?  All of them..  It depends on the day, the outfit, my mood.  The depth of my nostalgia or temporality.

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