When was the last time you cleaned out your shoe rack, beloved?
As a thrifting junkie, shoes were something I passed over in favor of items I didn’t mind buying twice or thrice-used. I still can’t get past buying an item that once collected someone else’s feet juices…sorry for the grossness, but that’s just how it is.
And yet, when I’d amassed a wardrobe too great and too diverse for one so small of wallet and stature as myself, I sent my focus towards those accessories that have sent many women into a tizzy: shoes.
As I was cleaning out my shoe rack the other day, I was hit with the thought of how obvious my transition from quiet, shy, invisible 20-year old Amanda to—well, whatever adjectives I am now. But I am in my mid-20s, and I finally have an opinion and a voice and a mind and I exercise them most frequently.
I’d like to take you on a journey familiar to us all. As we walk through my shoe rack, reflect on your own shoe journey. What started you out? Where did it go from there?
And what, sole-ly, became the essence of what is you today?
01. Kitten Heels & Ballet Flats
Amanda in 2020 was, if one word could sum her up, small. I hated taking up space—in the grocery store, in my office, in my apartment. I stopped getting a shopping cart at stores because I panicked at the idea of multiplying my mass and therefore getting in people’s way.
It make sense that my shoe of choice, back then, was {a low heel or ballet flat}. Most of my options were from Banana Republic, which I was proud of at the time. It was grown-up. The colors at good old BR were no-nonsense, minimalistic.
Now, I see that I was trying to prove myself by wearing heels every day. People commented on how they could hear me coming—no one else in our small, SoCal casual office wore heels. Especially the clickety clackety kind. But they made me feel like a girl who had moved 2000 miles to take a Real Adult Job.
02. First Chunky Sneakers
Don’t ask me why this made such an impact. But, for the girl who found so much solace and identity in heels for so long, it felt so “casual” and “streetwear” to finally allow myself to wear sneakers on a normal basis. And, not only that, but I gave into the {chunky sneakers} look. They had a certain “LA cool girl” feel.
03. Doc Martens & Cowgirl boots
I never in a million years would’ve bought {Doc Martens} of my own accord. I was soft, gentle, and had nothing to do with the grungy, punk rock, alt crowd that defined the brand.
But . . . something changed when I first tried those boots on.
2022 was a rough time in my life. I was making the typical mistakes one does in their early twenties. A motorcycle was involved, as were drums. I hit my “rebel stage,” but it was a lot less wild and a lot later than most girls. Turned out, I needed some kind of thick leather boots in case I went flying off the motorcycle and got flayed alive.
I honestly can’t remember what made me think of Doc Martens, except that they seemed to go with the rough, tough motorcycle leather vibes. And when I tried those boots on, I think I regenerated as a new version of myself. The girl in the mirror was becoming.
People at work noticed the telltale yellow lacing and the proud tag sticking out the back of my boots. Was I Doc Martens girl now? Why, yes. Yes I was.
In addition to the motorcycle, I was made to explore another world I had very little interest-in: the wannabe cowboy. Even though I’m from the south, I never thought much of the whole country aesthetic. However, I was glad to find a pair of {pale blue embroidered cowgirl boots} that are more art (totally Marie Antoinette, French rococo vibes) than square dance.
04. Everything?
2023 was one of the hardest, and yet best, years of my life. I got a closeup and personal view of myself and my flaws, and I didn’t like the crusty residue I was seeing. I had a lot of tearful, eye-opening moments with God and friends. I lost myself, and then I found myself again, in full color.
That’s when I really gave myself permission to explore shoes. All my life, I had cared what people thought. I said the “right thing,” even though maybe it wasn’t the honest thing. I was afraid of being too loud or too much. But, in worrying about that, I ended up halving and then quartering myself until I was just a shell that bad people would try to fill with their thoughts and identities.
I said, enough is enough. And I bought the shoes. I got {thick Mary Jane platforms}. I got {lace-up espadrilles} that had a way deeper meaning for me. I bought {EVEN THICKER and EVEN CHUNKIER white platform sneakers}—TWICE. And I bought shoes that I knew my ex would’ve hated (ultimate cathartic experience), but I freaking loved: {demure, white double-t-strap block heels}.
05. Velvet Mary Jane Docs, Brown Nike Air Maxes, Green New Balances
In the past, I had seen shoes as very practical. You need a brown pair and a black pair. One pair of sneakers. Maybe something colorful. But that was it.
But now, I had opened Pandora’s box.
4 years ago, I wouldn’t have been brave enough to wear {burgundy velvet Mary Janes}. You also wouldn’t catch me dead in sneakers outside of a Saturday, or maybe paired with a dress because I constantly had to verify my feminine side.
Nowadays, you’ll catch me in ripped jeans and {green New Balances}. Or, yes, {Nike sneakers} with a white dress. But I just see all of this as genre stacking. Some days, I’m super girly. Some days, I’m theatrical. Others, I’m wearing leggings and a sweatshirt.
I feel I have broken outside of the box I built around myself.
06. Bridal shoes (awwwww) etc.
Three weeks ago now, I bought my {bridal shoes}. This is not a pair of shoes I dared dream I would purchase. They are a color I and my fiance really love, and a texture I’ve come to adopt as part of my personal brand (well, currently; always subject to change). They are an ode to the things I have loved: Mary Janes, small heels, vintage. And yet the color, and the very fact that they are my wedding shoes, attest to the nearly five years I’ve now been out here, discovering myself.
One step at a time.
One shoe at a time.
❤
Wallflower Garden 
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