Meet Chuck

Like most girls, I *heart* shoes. Shoe shopping runs deep enough in my blood to convince me that long ago, in caveman days even, it was a survival skill. Cave-mama made sure her family was well-shod in sturdy, yet fashionable footwear, in order to flee predatory animals that would like nothing more than a cave-baby snack. Or something like that. But something I love even more than shoes (how is this possible?!) is being able to express myself through many mediums. And when I can do this through my shoes... well, does it really get any better than that?

Pre-high school, in the summer before each school year started, I picked out whatever tickled my adolescent fancy in the aisles of Payless Shoes. I remember wearing navy blue and cream saddle shoes during the fifth grade. Another year I wore rainbow striped Vans with leopard spots. Yet another year I wore plain white Keds. But when I got to high school, insecurity made me second guess my previous sneaker selections. Because anyone who was *anyone* wore Converse.

The day I picked up my own pair of Chuck Taylors, I was ecstatic. Finally, I was going to be cool and angsty and fit in with my peers. That lasted about a week until I realized that no one but me really cared what was on my feet. Soon after, my white high tops featured all sorts of personalized grafitti.

These days, the shoe is a little different. Black and low-top, they are the kitten heel to those high school shoes. But man, you gotta love them Chuck Taylors.