Be Bold, Be You...Wear Red Shoes

A long while ago I wrote just a little blurb about Red Shoes. The simple fact was that I wanted a pair that was comfortable and classy; I just wasn't having any luck in finding the pair. Then, in a little catalog that I thought looked like one that my Grandma would get in her mailbox, I found the perfect pair of Red Shoes. 

Sometimes those Granny Catalogs with elastic-waisted pants, velour pants and floral housecoats are full of hidden gems, like Red Shoes. (Never underestimate the Granny Catalog.)

So, this morning, I was getting ready for church and as I eyeballed the dresses in my closet, I thought about how "putting on my Sunday best" isn't really what it used to be. When I was a girl, it was about the little white socks edged in lace, a pair of white sandals in the summer, black shiny shoes in the winter, and always about pretty dresses. I looked at my dresses and realized that nowadays, I usually go for either "dressy" jeans (is there really such a thing?!) or dress pants. 

I'm a little hesitant to wear a dress. I think I can blend in better with pants. I don't make a statement if I wear gray or brown or black. Besides, I really do like those colors and they are, more or less, my comfort zone. But today, I wanted to be bold. I wanted to dress the way I feel on the inside. Vibrant. Ladylike. A little sassy. A little vintage. 

I pulled out a dress that I've had for about two years. Initially, the zipper was broke so that was my excuse not to wear it. But I had fixed it and now my excuse really was null and void. Not to mention, it was sleeveless and today was hot and sunny. 

Sliding it off the hanger, I held it out to decide. Then before I could think about this too much I slipped it on over my head and zipped it up. 

Yes, this was feeling good. Shoes...shoes...shoes...now, which ones? 

"Come on Dianne, you know you want to wear the Red ones. You knew it when you pulled that blue and white polka-dotted dress with the red belt from your closet. Just do it! Quit worrying about what you think "someone" might say. You don't even know who "someone" is. 

The Red Shoes found their way onto my feet and as I stretched down to work with the buckles and straps, I was reminded of Grandma. I think of her when I have to bend down to tie my shoes, pull on a pair of nylons, or paint my toenails. It's not that it is difficult, but it is more difficult than it was when I was half my age. Now, double my age and I am almost Grandma's age: 92. Now, every single morning she puts on a pair of super-duper extra-strength elastic hose. When I help her, I sit on the floor and work to get them on her toes, then over her heels, then up her legs. Let me just say that it is a workout. "Torture Tights" is how they should be marketed. Seriously. 

If I didn’t wear the shoes more often now, maybe I never would. Someday my flexibility may not be so flexible and my fingers not so nimble. What was I waiting for?

I went to church this morning. I thanked God that He made me uniquely me. And after church when Aaron and Lisa-Anna came over, we had a photo session. I’m not comfortable with being in pictures. I have a hard time looking and feeling natural and I tend to find all my perceived flaws. Today though, I did not want to do that. I wanted to take my gummy smile, the crooked way I tend to hold my head, my neck wrinkles, my generous curves and thank God that He made me who I am, inside and out.

And if wearing Red Shoes reminds me to be thankful that I am God’s creation, then so be it.

 

 Love, 

Dianne