I have always wanted to start a trend. Ideally, it would have been a catchphrase. Like, I’d like to have been the first person to ever say the phrase “shit show.” Sadly, I am not that creative with my swearing, but I have done my best to make that one popular.
But if you know me in person, you’ll know that, in general, I am not exactly one to inspire a rabid following. The only fashion I ever rocked before anyone else was the long belted sweater, but even then, I don’t think I styled it properly:
Maybe it would have caught on 20 years sooner if I hadn’t paired it with a shirt I stole from a Mennonite and a gigantic denim purse filled with books of Herman comics, because what fifth-grader doesn’t enjoy a good one-panel comic aimed at geriatric men?
In general, I just don’t care that much about clothes—I understand that, for the good of everyone involved, I can’t just go naked, so I put on whatever outfit most adequately covers my junk. I generally don’t buy into the latest fashions (exception: I recently discovered yoga pants, and am now hard at work on my doctoral thesis on how to wear them to every social event for the rest of my life, including funerals and baptisms), and I am not particularly adventurous when it comes to patterns or styles—I own approximately seven navy blue and white striped nautical sweaters, and I will not be dissuaded from buying another if it presents itself and costs under $30 (another major deciding factor in my wardrobe choices).
Shoes, in particular, I view as a necessary evil. I gave up even pretending to wear high heels while I was pregnant with Addie, and have plodded along proudly in flats and sneakers ever since. I would actually be one of those people who would join the barefoot movement if it were socially acceptable to stroll through Target with the scuzzy hooves of a caveperson.
Which is why I wasn’t expecting to cause such a stir with my new shoes today:
No fewer than three strangers and one homeless person (who is also a stranger, not like my own personal homeless person) have asked about them today, and at least one person claimed she was going to buy a pair. Which is both flattering and sort of annoying, because I think I really deserve to have the market cornered on fox shoes here, okay?
So who knows—maybe I just started a new trend! Maybe animal-print footwear is going to be all the rage in 2016. If it is, please print this blog post and show it to anyone who will listen, because I’m going to need to demand credit for this whole situation. Until it inevitably becomes over-exposed and passé, at which point I’m just going to quietly slip them into the back of my closet and return to my inconspicuous life of navy stripes and Hobbit feet.