Today's a sad day, the end of an era, the death of a great partnership…
…My last two pair of Converse baseball boots gave up, and finally had to ceremoniously thrown out. I wept a tear for the loss of my favourite shoes and for the loss of youth.
My relationship with converse started when I blew my first pay check paged thirteen on a pair of green, red and blue All Stars, (and when you’re getting paid £1.00 an hour that a lot of work!) Since then I’ve dredged through desert sands in them, got them wet in the cannels of Venice, walked up mountains in them, and on far too many occasions trudged through snow in them.
I remember every pair, the red green and blue All Star Highs, (x2). The blue pair, the red pair, the black suede one-star lows. The dusky pink pair, the pink lows, the lilac pair, brought to go with a proms dress for a wedding. The metallic gold pair, brought to go with a posh frock I wore to a ball. And not forgetting my all-time favourite, the silver and green trainers which were very cool, circa 1999!
Oh yes, these shoes defined my youth, and were loyal through the good times, and the bad times. They became an extension of me, part of how I defined myself, being the only label I’d ever be proud to say I wore. But now, with all my faithful friends broken and gone, I feel alone, sad, and quite frankly old!
I need (doctors’ orders) to wear sensible shoes that have more support, if I’m to (doctors’ advice) keep walking pain free and to avoid some pretty nasty surgery. So here’s my dilemma, do I follow doctors’ orders and get sensible shoes, (much like the ones favoured by Frankenstein and Herman Munster) or do I desperately try to hang on to my youth and buy a new pair?
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