shoes, honestly

buying shoes is an ordeal for me. not because i can't find shoes that i like, or that there is a lack of available sizes. the thing is, i have 'issues' with my left foot: a bunion and hallux limitus. the later is a condition caused by running. it would have helped, i suppose, if i had replaced my running shoes more frequently than i did. and no doubt it would have helped if i hadn't run so much on concrete. but regardless of the causes, i'm stuck with a foot that is ridiculously difficult to fit.

two podiatrists have told me surgery is an option, but that unless my foot actually hurts, there is no reason to rush into it. one of those podiatrists did say, however, that not being able to find shoes that fit is a valid reason for surgery as well. hmmm. apparently the most stationary sole is the best, i.e. one that does not flex. so my search for shoes must keep these factors in mind: enough room for the nobby protrusion that is my bunion, enough room in the toe box so that there is no pressure on the bunion or the area around the joint, rigid sole, and of course--something that i like.

danskos work--in some styles. and recently i discovered MBTs, a technology based on how the masai walk. according to the creator of the MBT line, walking on sand or springy moss is ideal for the human body. it provides an exercise to many areas of the leg, foot, and even stomach. in addition, it strengthens the back and promotes good posture. MBTs recreate this "walking on sand" effect in a shoe.

i received my podiatrist's endorsement on MBTs and three people in my yoga class have a pair (one of them has two), so i decided to spend the $250. Gulp.

not the most attractive of shoes, i chose an athletic style in black. when i left the store, it didn't even occur to me that i may have chosen the wrong size. but after walking in them for an hour or so, i started to suspect that perhaps i had. they felt a bit too roomy. and they were sure to stretch. so, what to do?

i'm at a point in my life where even a small white lie can be cause for gnawing guilt. maybe it's the karma thing; maybe it's just that i'm a better person than the one who derived such delicious pleasure from lifting a dress, shirt, or a variety of other items from stores and then walking out with the new possessions hidden on my person, feeling the inimitable rush of success.

so now that i had worn the shoes and the outer soles showed mud and tiny stones embedded in the tread, what was i to do? easy--clean them as best i could and determine (honestly) if they 'look' new. then take it from there. . .

so with a screwdriver, an old toothbrush, a paperclip, and the outdoor hose, i went to work. diligent work, and for someone as meticulous (and yes-obsessive) in many ways as i can be, a definite degree of fun. the result was pretty darn close to perfect. i even managed a few impressive touch-ups with a q-tip soaked in alcohol.

so i returned to the store, told the salesman ( who i liked and trusted) that i felt i may have purchased the shoes in the wrong size. he pulled out a pair in the next size down and i tried them on. they felt better, but something inside me wouldn't let me exchange them. so i told him the ones i had purchased originally were probably better afterall, and i left the store. but the story was not quite resolved.

that night i became increasingly annoyed by the fact that the shoes i had in my possession were slightly too large. i knew they were the kind of leather that would stretch, which made the situation all the worse. so i could of course make do, by wearing a thicker pair of socks. but my god--$250 bucks. so i decided i would return to the store the following day, try the smaller pair on again, and 'wing it.'

by the time i got to the parking lot of the shopping center, i was in anguish. the idea of facing the salesman and pretending that the shoes had not been worn made me sick to my stomach. i simply couldn't do it. but the other half of my dilemma was the fact that i had spent so much money on a pair of shoes that were in truth too big. which was stronger? my need to tell the truth, or my need to make a good purchase (i.e. to not 'waste' money). i called my best friend, hoping she would somehow convince me that returning them would be "o.k.," even though i knew it wasn't. i called my mother as well, because i believed she may have had the magic word to make me feel o.k. about it all. the call to my friend went to voicemail. the call to my mom produced a busy signal.

in exasperation i took out the shoes from the box. i turned them to examine the soles--yet again. with very careful inspection, someone could indeed notice that they had probably been worn. it was then i knew what to do.

so i entered the store and the same salesman was there. i greeted him with, "so here i am again!" and laughed. "i'm going through hell with these shoes," i told him. "i think i really do need the smaller size. maybe i wouldn't find the need to fine-tune this purchase so carefully if they weren't $250, but they are, and i need to make it right."

so he went to the stock room and pulled out the smaller pair. "but here's the thing," i confessed. "i may may not even have an option here; i wore them outside and you need to know that."

"o.k," he said, taking the larger pair and heading to the stock room. i was walking around in the 9.5s when he returned, shoes in hand. "they're fine. a few things i can touch up 'in the back.' they're essentially unworn."

relief. so simple and so complete. i then told him of a memory from long time ago. my father, a retail store manager in baltimore, md., had the policy: "the customer is always right." he proved his adherence to this idea one christmas when a woman came to the store with a coat she had purchased three years before. she wanted her money back because she claimed the coat didn't keep her warm. my dad returned the full amount she had paid.

"i had to tell you the truth," i told the salesman. "maybe it's because i remember how angry i was with that woman who took advantage of my father's store policy so long ago." the salesman smiled. "the shoes are fine. don't worry."

as he was filling out the necessary paperwork for the exchange, i spotted a pair of jazzy socks for my daughter for christmas. so i purchased these and breathed another sigh of relief. shoes, honestly.