Tag Archives: Ink Shoes

Cobbler, Cobbler, Mend My Shoe

Time to go shoe shopping in my own closet.

So many fine pairs of shoes in there.  Many made in Italy, Spain, or Portugal.  Built to last.  Worn down by heavy use but with plenty of miles to go.  I spent a lot on them.  On purpose, you see, because I decided quality matters where footwear is concerned.  Quality is the near perfect balance of beauty plus function.  I would now like to add mileage to the equation.

I’d love to snatch up a pair of new shoes right about now.  Just one new pair for the 2018 fall season, that’s all.  What would be so bad about that?  It’s not guilt that holds me back.  It’s not money.  I give myself a generous shoe budget. No, it’s something else.  Something more global.  An overarching issue in my life right now.

In a word…clutter.

Clutter really gets to me.  General house clutter mostly.  Too many papers, books, music and stray socks.  Too many kitchen utensils, expired food pantry items, office supplies, file folders of stuff from the kids’ elementary school years, things bought at estate sales that never got cleaned up and re-purposed, Christmas gifts I never liked, clothing items bought online that don’t fit but never got returned.  Do I need to go on?

So let’s face it, I have too many shoes.  Time to purge, donate the orphans, and spiff up the ones that need attention.  I don’t like to waste time beating myself up about the hardly worn.  As Mari Kondo says, they “sparked joy” when I bought them.

I spent a few hours tidying up my closet this afternoon.  I pulled out all the shoes and boxes then dusted, and swept.  I moved the spring/summer shoes back into boxes and stacked them neatly on the top shelf.

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Next, I organized the fall/winter shoes I frequently wear into the hanging shoe caddy and the rest into easily accessed boxes on the floor.

 

I have seven pairs I will offer to my daughter and what she doesn’t want I will donate.

Lastly, I’ve identified the ones that are badly in need of repair.

IMG_4066These are going to the cobbler.

The thought of it gives me a little thrill.  I hand over the shoes and then, for a fraction of the original cost, I will pay for the repairs and receive what will feel like four brand new pairs.  More mileage=more love.

Here are the before pictures…

IMG_4067This pair of Ink booties were a staple of my wardrobe between 2013-2015.  While at an ACDA National Conference in Minneapolis two years ago, the cap to the heel broke off.  Likely while marching back and forth daily between the conference center and hotel snaking through the infamous Downtown Skywalk.  I didn’t notice until I took a field trip to visit my old friend Christopher Hopkins (The Makeover Guy) and he detected the lopsided clopping sound which accompanied my stroll through the aisles of a liquor store as we searched for a decent pinot noir.

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Here’s a pair of Chie Miharas where the heel cap also detached.  I love the textured leather, but it’s worn away on the toes.  Can it be restored?

IMG_4074Another pair of booties but this time it’s the tip of the sole that has come away.  This was my first pair of Coclicos.

 

IMG_4078These Chie Mihara flats have a metallic finish.  I got them a few years ahead of the trend.  I’ve badly scuffed up the toe of the left shoe with the edge of the heel on the right shoe.  Hopefully my cobbler can work with the metallic finish and maybe file down the edge of the heel a bit?

I’m off to the Village Cobbler!

 

 

Birthdays

Last month I celebrated a birthday.  I had a nice day.  It was the first time in ten years that I didn’t have some kind of choral rehearsal or performance to go to.  I was free to celebrate with family and friends on the actual day.  I was surprised what a difference that made.  I was also surprised to have my friend Pippa from London in town unexpectedly!  After my morning work obligations, we met for lunch.  Later, at home, I received a birthday call from my daughter and then headed out again for a routine hair appointment. In the evening my husband, son, Pippa and her sister Martha all met for dinner at a new Nepalese restaurant in town called “Base Camp.”  Later at home we lit some candles on a carrot cake and I opened some gifts.  These shoes were in the pile.

Shoe booties by Italian shoe maker "Ink"

Shoe booties by Italian shoe maker “Ink”

Love the exposed zipper and the graceful pointed toe.

Love the exposed zipper and the graceful pointed toe.

In case you were wondering; I was the one who ordered them.  That’s how my husband and I handle most of our gift giving and I highly recommend it.  I had been looking for Chelsea boots (see my last post) but then I found these.  I took a chance on an Italian brand I had noticed often but never tried.  I got lucky.  These shoes are wonderful; beautifully crafted and feel like heaven to wear.  It always lifts my spirits to discover a new shoe designer to covet.  More soles to search, more fodder for the blog.

All very normal, regular stuff… except for the fact that I turned 55.  How exactly did that happen?

I don’t know about you, but I have more trouble grasping the middle of the decade than I do the beginning.  Turning 50 seemed novel.  It took time to sink in and it was easy to ignore at first.  But turning 55 is much harder to disregard. When the second number is equal or greater than the first number, things start to get real.

I was watching some old home video footage of a Junior Choir Advent musical play I directed at my church in 2004.  My daughter was in it and she was 8 years old.  She was so little and her voice so high and squeaky.  She had a few teeth missing and her hair needed a good brushing.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  Today she’s sitting in her dorm room in upstate New York getting ready for her first semester finals.  My son wasn’t yet with us back then.  In fact, he was only a few months old and living in Russia.  Today he is a fifth grader with smelly armpits and a love for MineCraft.  Where did all that time go?  Where are those children?  Those babies?

I see myself in the video too.  I’m more or less the same.  I have the same haircut with the same blond highlights and except for a few extra pounds and a few wrinkles I look just the same today as I did then.  I might even still own that dress.  I’m about to put together yet another Junior Choir Advent musical.  I think this is number 23 or 24.  I’ve lost count.  It all starts to blur together.  If it wasn’t for the videos and the photos, I wouldn’t know when anything happened because it all feels like yesterday.

It all feels like yesterday until I remember that my Dad is gone and my Mom just sold the house we all grew up in to only the third owner it has ever had.  She’s living in a very small but nice apartment in a retirement community called Rolling Hills Ranch in Omaha, NE.  She’ll be the first to you that nothing’s the same.  My husband’s parents have been long gone but when I watch the video of my daughter, I can remember a time when my mother-in-law was very much in the picture.  Our daughter was her first and only grandchild and she would lavish her with gifts both at Hannukah and Christmas time.  It would drive me nuts when she would call or email in November and insist that I give her very detailed gift suggestions so that she would know what to buy.  I would think, “why do I have to do her shopping AND my shopping too?” How silly of me.  What I wouldn’t give to hear her voice on the other end of the phone today.

I see the parents with the car seats and the diaper bags and the kiddos in the restaurants with the booster seats and the french fries and I think; that was just me.  Now I’m the one with the half empty nest collecting up all the picture books and toys to pass along to the next generation.  Some of these things may even be antiques by now.

Let’s change the topic back to shoes shall we?  A friend of mine mentioned a movie called “Only You” about a woman who falls in love with an Italian shoe maker.  It’s on my must see list now.  I want to do a post on shoe related movies.  Send me your suggestions.  “Cinderella” and “The Red Shoes” come to mind but there must be more.  I need your help on this one.