To begin with, I have never paid $100 for a pair of shoes. Ever.
The first shoes I bought with my own money (that I had earned for babysitting when I was in high school) were a pair of white high-top Reebok Freestyles. Remember those? They had Velcro closures around the ankle (before every pair of shoes in North America had Velcro) and the soles were made of all these wee suction-cup looking circles. I used to go out for a walk in them, then come home and use a pair of tweezers to pick out the little tiny rocks and debris that had gotten caught in the cracks between the suction cups. No lie. I had spent maybe $40 of my very own money on those shoes and I expected them to last me at least through my 20s. Suffice it to say that they didn’t quite make it that far, but they lasted a good long while.
I must admit that I’m not much of a stereotypical ‘girl’ when it comes to things like shoes, handbags, clothes, etc. I don’t covet fancy threads or drool over upscale purses from outside shop windows, and I couldn’t tell you the difference between Manolo and Miu Miu if you paid me (in fact, I had to Google “designer shoes” just to find those names). I believe this stems from a combination of spending many years as a poor college student, being too cheap to spend that kind of money in general, and quite frankly just not caring about the next ‘in’ thing. I cannot think of one thing I have ever bought simply because it was considered the cool thing to have or because some celebrity threw their name/face/persona behind it.
No, in the long list of adjectives that friends and acquaintances might come up with to describe this 40-something gal, “stylish” and “trendy” would never be among them.
But here I am, in my Mizuno Wave Runner 16’s, Rouge Red/Apple Green, size 6.5 W. My Wendy Davis shoes.
Wendy Davis is the Texas Congresswoman who held a filibuster this summer over an ultra-restrictive anti-abortion bill which proponents claimed ‘protected women’s health.’ Opponents like Wendy argued that the conservative legislation, in actuality, would do the opposite, putting women’s health at risk across the state and severely limiting Texas women’s rights. During this filibuster, Rep. Davis was not permitted to eat, drink, use the restroom, lean on anything, stray from the topic, or stop talking. She did this for 11 hours. In her Mizuno Wave Runner 16’s, Rouge Red/Apple Green.
No matter what side of the issue you come down on, you have got to admit that’s pretty damn impressive.
Davis’ eye catching shoes were certainly the talk of the town the next day. Among all the zaniness that comprised that first Special Session (including the falsification of official state government records) sat images of Wendy Davis’ Mizuno’s, front and center, demanding to be seen. Far from silly commentary on female politicians’ fashion choices (think Hillary Clinton’s pants suits), those ‘Rouge Red’ (pink, really) sneakers with the Apple Green accents took on a life of their own. As Sally Kohn notes in her July 6 article:
“I couldn’t help but wonder: is commenting on a woman leader’s footwear in media coverage the same thing as coveting a woman leader’s iconic sneakers? No…her shoes are a symbol—a talisman of feminism and political voice and literally standing up for what’s right. Her shoes are legitimately part of the story of filibustering for 11 hours, especially because they stood out.”
(http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2013/07/06/why-wendy-davis-s-iconic-shoes-are-newsworthy.html)
Sally Kohn wanted a pair of Wendy’s shoes. Apparently so did a lot of women. And I did, too.
The idea to buy a pair of Wendy’s shoes didn’t come to me immediately. While not a native Texan, I lived in the state for many years and watched from afar as the politics played out.
In the end, Wendy was unsuccessful in her endeavors. While her filibuster was a super-human effort, it failed to prevent the ultimate passage of the bill, which was passed in a second special session called specifically for this legislation. Wendy knew this. And yet she made the physical, emotional and mental commitment to literally stand by her convictions for 11 hours to make a point. To stand up for what’s right.
I ordered my shoes from Amazon.com, which was apparently the go-to place to find the now iconic Mizuno’s. I tracked their progress online and knew when they had been delivered to my front porch. I couldn’t wait to get home. I couldn’t wait to show them to my almost 7 year old son, who loves bright colors, patterns and designs. My color palette is generally much more subdued than his, as I don’t particularly like to call attention to myself. Much more of an ‘under the radar’ type am I. So I knew he’d like Mommy’s new shoes that were quite a bit out of her color comfort zone yet smack dab in the middle of his. But mostly, I couldn’t wait to tell him the story.
I had him close his eyes and a broad smile crossed his face when he opened them and beheld my latest acquisition.
“Those are pretty, Mommy!” Then after a pause, “Did you need them because your old sneakers are worn out?”
“No, I got them because they were worn by a lady in Texas. A politician. And she wore them when she was making an argument in the Texas State Congress about something she really believed in.”
I explained to him what a filibuster was and what the rules were.
“How long do you think she talked?”
“An hour?”
“Longer.”
“Two hours?”
“Longer”
“Five hours?”
“Longer”
“TEN hours?
“Nope. Longer”
“Twelve?”
“Eleven”
“Wow! That’s a long time! And she wore those shoes?”
“Well, not this exact pair, but a pair just like these. So I bought a pair just like hers, because she inspired me. And when I think I can’t do something, or think it’s too hard, I want to look at my shoes and be inspired to think like Mrs. Masters taught you in first grade—we don’t say ‘I can’t,’ we say, ‘I’ll try.’ I want to remember to stand up for what I believe in and not be afraid to speak up when it’s really important to me.”
“That’s cool, Mom.”
Cool, indeed.
So, here I am, in my Wendy Davis shoes, both stylish AND trendy. And damn proud of it.
PostModernMommy 