A totally random post for me this Monday morning: it is in fact about shoes, which I don't comment on much if at all here (unless I'm begging for help in the boots for wide calves department). But seeing as I got together this weekend with one of the queens of good shoe taste, I think a little shoe diversion is acceptable. The adorable Ambika of (Into) the Fray - her blog and etsy shop - was in Portland this weekend and was sweet enough to get in touch with me, so we got together for bagels and coffee. Yes, I said bagels. I have officially found my NYC bagel substitute. But I digress. Ambika is super charming, easy to talk to, and the girl brought me fresh coffee beans. If you know me, you know that makes her a keeper in my book. Perhaps the good shoes aura that she emanates affected me somehow, because I've had shoes on the brain recently.
Two recent shoe incidents have made me aware that I am in the process of going over a serious maturity hump. First, Barry (who, honestly, could write a book on properly fitting running shoes) convinced me that I needed a new pair of sneakers as the ones I run in are really worn down. I'd been holding out for a while, searching for a pair that wasn't totally offensive to my eye (read: searching for a pair that wasn't white) while still offering the type of support that my feet need. I wanted black. I'd settle for gray. Both colors can be found in trail shoes. I don't need trail shoes. I caved in and ended the search last week with the most awful-looking white sneakers ever made. Really, guys, they're old man sneakers. Wretched. But they're comfortable, so I don't really care. I can't believe I said I don't care.
Two recent shoe incidents have made me aware that I am in the process of going over a serious maturity hump. First, Barry (who, honestly, could write a book on properly fitting running shoes) convinced me that I needed a new pair of sneakers as the ones I run in are really worn down. I'd been holding out for a while, searching for a pair that wasn't totally offensive to my eye (read: searching for a pair that wasn't white) while still offering the type of support that my feet need. I wanted black. I'd settle for gray. Both colors can be found in trail shoes. I don't need trail shoes. I caved in and ended the search last week with the most awful-looking white sneakers ever made. Really, guys, they're old man sneakers. Wretched. But they're comfortable, so I don't really care. I can't believe I said I don't care.
I'll be back tomorrow - I've got lots of blove (blog + love?) to spread around this week.