What A Woman

(Or, How Many Shoes Do I Need?!)

Last week, my good friend and frequent shopping accomplice asked me one of life's vital questions.

How many pairs of shoes do you have?

Tricky question, right? That's like asking a Shanghai "massage girl" how many tricks she's turned in the past year or how many hairs I have on my lustrously wavy head. Nearly impossible... The daunting task at hand caused a momentary tinge of panic. From sandals to flip flops, loafers to wing-tips, sneakers to trainers, how could I keep track of all these? Not to mention all the pairs of heels and flats I own.

After racking my brain for longer than any straight (trust me!) man should, I was able to compile a list that only grew with every boost in recollective memory power. And now I feel like a complete douchebag for having so many pairs that, in all seriousness, I probably don't need. Peep the full list, in all its glory:

Sandals (not including flip flops):
2 pairs of Birks

Professional/non-sneaker shoes:
7 (3 pairs brown leather, 2 pairs black leather, 1 pair green suede, 1 pair of boots)

Sneakers:
7 pairs of Converse (3 hightops - limited edition Finland Santa series, regular red/white/blue, khaki/green/brown leather. 4 lowtops - blue/white double tongue, regular sky blue, classic black, double-layer green/red/blue plaid)
3 pairs of athletic trainers (2 pairs of Nike running, 1 pair of Adidas crosstrainers)
1 pair of lowtop checkered Vans
2 pairs of casual Adidas (both red/white/blue combos)
2 pairs of Pumas (original silver Mostros and classic burgundy/khaki)
1 pair of blue Saucony
1 pair of Asics Onitsuke Tigers (silver/white/blue)
2 pairs of Nike casuals (maroon/sky blue Dunk Lows and my new babies, the Neopolitan Nike IDs)

I think that's it... All 27 pairs (54 lovely babies) are happily living with me here in Shanghai, except for the pair of blue Sauconys that I've had since high school, which are floating around my garage back home in the US.

Looking at this list and coming to terms with myself, the truth hits. I really don't wear all of them as much as I should. How can anyone manage? I don't know how the average woman or rapper does it. On average, the most foot-time goes to the black Converse, whose classic and easy-to-match neutrality is a no brainer. Same for the standard white Chucks, which have seen the worst of what Boston, Manhattan and Shanghai streets have to offer.

Ironically, the shoes that cost the most (one pair of Adidas, the Asics, all the leather shoes) see the least amount of daylight, compared to their sale-rack and fake-market brethren.

This continues an ignominious trend that I started way back in 1992 (or thereabouts...), when my pair of first edition Shaquille O'Neal Reeboks saw approximately 3 or 4 months of open air before I ditched them for a pair of shockingly sexy black and turquoise Filas, which were all the ghetto rage. The Shaq Attaqs (truly the hot shit) were gigantically thick monstrosities. Check these puppies out:

Whoa Nelly! The Big Dawgs

This picture does not do their pure girth justice. On the day of schoolyard unveiling (so.extremely.important.), it *happened* to be Field Day, a lovely schoolyard event filled with plenty of adolescent humiliation for your's truly. It may come as a shock to you, but I was not very athletic as a boy (or man, natch). So, executing my perfect plan, I plotted to use my awesome new sneakers to distract potential bullies from noticing how hard I sucked at each event, thus saving me some taunts and punches. But my Shaq Attaqs could not help me. In fact, they made matters worse.

Weighing approximately 10 pounds each - not counting the extra particle weight sucked into the shoe's cavity by that goddamn Pump - the bastards only served to slow me down. The gangliness of my frame was only exacerbated by the massive clown boots attached to my chicken legs. Running the short distance dash, the clunky chunks made me look like Forrest Gump in his leg clamps, awkward and so not fresh. Even an $85 pair of shoes couldn't mask my inadequacies. Let's not even mention what they did to my free-throw basketball shootout score...

Fifteen years later, Shaq Diesel and his magic kicks still haunt me. Despite the fleeting pang of guilt that I feel whenever I score a sweet pair of slightly expensive shoes, the shame always passes when I think of how good I'll look in them. Vanity and fashion statements aside, there is something to be said for a nice pair of shoes: how they represent your personality, the way they can make you feel, and their ability to make an entire outfit shine. It's a highly personal affair that really applies to any mode with which we choose to express ourselves. Personally, due to either sentimental attachments or sheer conceit, my day can be ruined if I am not wearing the right pair. Thus, the unreasonable amount that I own. On second thought, the same obsessive compulsion goes for my shirt and trouser selection. Thank God my friend didn't ask me how many t-shirts I own...