Sole Searching: Tales told from the shoes of those who wear them
He sits on the third park bench on the left side of a different garden every month, and has been everyday, for the past three years and twenty-eight days. He sits with his feet together, knees apart as if they’ve offended one another. He wears black pants, black shoes, a black belt with a rusted silver buckle, black suspenders, and an all black long sleeved- t-shirt. Those who pass by wonder if he’s grieving. He sits and stares through empty wronged eyes, magnified by square lenses. He never carries any belongings except for a recent edition of John Steinbeck’s, The Winter of Our Discontent, which is always open to the same page; 13. Captured here is a rare photograph of him on the move, in his silky black shoes that inspired the suspenders.
Ever hear the saying, “‘till the cows come home”? This may be difficult to accept but it began with her. Obsessed with the next door farmer in Brighton Village, she would spend every minute possible walking north and south of the same paths every day in hopes of finding him, or even better, him seeing her and expressing mutual desires. Why she never knocked on his door, wrote a letter, or gave a telephone ring was beyond the neighborhood, who knew all too well of her affections. However, when the cows went into the barn at an unpredictable time every night, she knew her farmer would not be seen again until the next sunrise. She would wait until the cows came home. When she moved to the city, London to be exact, she knew her chances of ever having her farmer love her back were slim. So she killed a cow, made the shoes, and is now the head designer at British Vogue.
A hero to her community, for she gave up everything at the needs and wants of others. She assured her neighbors were fed, and cooked large dishes for a weekly buffet three weeknights in the center of her community. All were invited. She would ask that others contribute or assist with the cooking but nobody ever did. As those around her would ravish in her goods and ask for money, books, and food, she lost everything, even her clothes. That is why these shoes don’t fit, they were left behind in the third stall of the bathroom at The Old Vic theatre and all she holds on to.
Stuck in an arranged marriage with an older and wealthy gentleman to please her grandparents, she loved another. She would be shunned from the city if they knew of her love affair with the woman who bartended next door. When the bartender had to leave the city forever, both knew the extreme danger if they traveled together. Insisting that her heart could never work without her bartending lover, she ripped it out and placed it in her biker boot for the bartender to take with her. Four years later, both were found poisoned and dead by their arranged spouses. The safely kept biker boot and her heart grew twelve times the size because at last, they reunited with each other. Now the boot and the heart live on a high London tower, watching over those who can not be with their true love and instead wear their hearts in their soles.
He screamed and cursed at authority figures every time they raised their voices, and he was always told to “bite his tongue.” Well, he could not do that for obvious reasons so instead he would bite and suck on small packets of ketchup. It took years, but he eventually became addicted to most condiments, though especially ketchup. The doctors warned him about all of the risks and sugar he was putting into his body, encouraging him to quit cold turkey. He keeps some on his shoe everyday, not so close that he can smell it and would be forced into temptation, but close enough that it is on his person as a security blanket.
Beginning at the young age of twelve, she spent years teaching herself assorted forms of art. She studied simple chord progression tunes on the piano and jazz rhythmic figures on the saxophone. Her grandfather taught her how to crochet and sew. Her friends taught her how to sculpt and mold clay. Her lover taught her how to act and sing on the stage. She spent weeks and months training before she would move on to another lesson. Within every teaching, she forgot to practice and maintain her skills learned within the last art form and lost it slowly. By the time she applied for colleges, she could not decide upon just one skill (or lack thereof) and decided to study arts interdisciplinary. Ultimately unsuccessful in every craft attempted or relearned, she failed out of university. She bought these boots to cheer herself up.
She lives a dark life, quite literally. Her upbringing was lovely as was her journey into adulthood, but dark colors always overcome her presence no matter how she dresses. Some deem the woman to be cursed because her dark matter began to affect her physical surroundings. Pigeons, for example, rid of green parakeets and yellow ducks, replacing them with their grey gloom. The most colorful piece of clothing that has yet to somber in her shadows are the electric neon patterns that line her tennis shoes which she has worn every day for nineteen days, two months, and three years. When she looks down, she smiles.
Bullied in middle through high school, she knew she was destined to eventually rise to the top. One day, she came home after school crying while her aunt was in town. Together, they made a list of all those she intended to get revenge on after her bullies would ideally peak in high school. While attending university in London, she met and befriended Alessandra Gucci, great-granddaughter of Guccio Gucci. It did not take long for their friendship to turn when Alessandra framed her for the 1990 City Bonds Robbery. £291.9 million United Kingdom bearer bonds were stolen. After one-month locked up, the police released her on account of not finding a single connection to the case. When she arrived back at university, she noticed these sneakers with an apology post-it note from Alessandra, who was soon added to her revenge list.
O the love triangle between two friends and a clueless boy. Here lies true triangular chaos, for the one on the far right spends her days pondering over the center sneakers while the far left is in love with her best friend on the far right. The two are inseparable. The friend on the left can not bring herself to tell her friend on the right how she truly feels because she doesn’t want to ruin the friendship, which is how the far right feels about the khakis in the middle. It gets worse because the boy in the center has equal feelings of love and hate for both of them, consistently caught in a crossroads.
He never considered the danger of shoelaces. Moments before the midnight that would begin the new year and his birthday, he spiraled into the realization that he was completely useless. With three minutes to spare, he walked outside in search of meaning to conclude the year. Diagonally across the street he noticed a homeless woman, so he thought, with bare feet. He crouched down, untied his "high tops," and removed them, leaving him with thin candy-striped socks to keep warm. Smiling, he jogged over and handed the shoes to the cold woman while wishing her a “Happy New Year.” Offended, she yelled that she was not homeless and tossed the high tops into the street. He nodded and walked over to retrieve his footwear. While picking up the right shoe, he stepped back and slipped on the left shoe’s laces backward into a passing bicycle. He purchased only slip ons that year and every year after, but these are his favorites.