A Full Fridge and A Great Shoe

Two things I love: a full fridge and a great shoe.

The former is really what the blog was once all about: a physical manifestation of caring for my family.  Of being prepared.  Of thinking ahead.  Of getting stocked with the nourishing things they like to eat, feeling ready to pack the lunches make the dinners carry the snacks.  Seriously, nothing stresses me out like a Friday Morning Fridge, with its remnants of the week’s leftovers and just the rinds of the parmesan cheese and the lonely yogurt that is no one’s favorite flavor and Oh my God what am I going to feed these people today??  (Food shopping is the first thing I do after drop-off on Friday morning.  My house may be a mess but if my fridge is full I can handle it. )

The latter is decidedly subjective, and my definition of what constitutes a great shoe for me has morphed significantly over the (recent) years.  As someone who once thought nothing of walking miles in heels, I sometimes shake my head at the recent accumulation of trainers under my dresser, but life is nothing if not a forward-moving train, meaning I’m older than I once was, and, of course, I’m a mom now which means my patience is stretched enough without throwing blisters into the mix.

I’ve been following Eva Chen on Instagram for Paris Fashion Week and she likes to photograph her feet.  (This is a fashion blogger thing, I guess.  They all #havethisthingwithfloors and also like to snap their shoes while they ride around in taxis to various fashion collab meetings.  This and shots of their hands in Vita Fede jewelry holding macarons or lattes.  And their pugs or bulldogs or Chihuahuas or something.)  Anyhoo, Miss Eva also has a wee tot and she has been on this trainers kick for the various Fashion Weeks, which I find pleasantly relatable in the Valentino studded-stiletto fog.

I am a woman with a large wardrobe.  Clothes are My Thing, and it’s safe to say I’m fairly unapologetic about this.  Some people chase the latest single-drip coffee or collect Italian wine or have season tickets to the Warriors.  I like clothes…and fashion magazines and shopping and great blogs and even — yes — Instagrams of beautiful shoes on various beautiful tiled #floors.

But it’s tricky, when you love clothes and you’re a mom and most of your most important hours are spent doing things to which fashion is entirely irrelevant.  No one cares what you are wearing at the playground.  Like, no one.   Ditto for the Zoo and the endless runs to Safeway and to Walgreens, and of course for the basement laundry room.  Moreover, you need to wear things that function.  Your kids don’t care how hot your shoes are if you can’t play monster-tag.  Fact.

So what’s the point?  Why keep all this stuff?  Why yearn for a bigger closet with shelving that would actually allow me to see my shoes and maybe even access them without fearing for my physical safety?  This is a question we grapple with a fair bit over on postmodyrn and I thought for the sake of posting today I’d offer my thoughts here on Less on the Floor too:

The truth is that I dress for myself.  Me, myself and I.  The time I spend at home trying things on, the time I spend taking care of my hair, picking out lipstick, putting on jewelry and taking it off: that’s just for me.  Like working out at dawn and shaking a martini after the kids are asleep on the nights my husband works late, like watching Kathie Lee and Hoda on Friday mornings after the school run (and the grocery run) before I sit down to work for the day, dressing is one of those things that I do just for me.  I’m not trying to prove anything, I’m not dressing for the job I want…I’m just indulging in a creative pastime that makes me feel good about myself.

So boring, right?

But back to great shoes.  I have parted ways with a great many this year.  As my closet shelves creak and groan, I’m facing the fact that I will never wear certain things again, no matter how much fun we had that one time in London when we went to dinner at that place that was on the mews and I was wearing those gray suede heels.  In other words, I’ve gotten utterly unsentimental — which is hard, but necessary, and all the more so seeing as I share a closet with my husband (note: do not recommend).  I wouldn’t say I’ve gone minimalist — that’s not really my thing — but I have decided to get creative with what I own and focus on quality over quantity when purchasing (these boots though).  It’s kind of liberating.

(A few Fall lust items:  Gorgeous slides // Unexpected Parka // The Coolest Sneakers // Blanket Scarf Wrap Thing)