These are my shoes.
I didn't pick them out. Pickle did.
I am no longer allowed to pick out my own tennis shoes (really any shoes) since the first time I got caught choosing an old lady walking shoe.
I don't really like tennis shoes that have a bunch of color or flashiness. I stand at work 99.9% of the time and need something comfortable. I wear different colored shorts a lot and don't want some wild shoes clashing with my plaid Bermudas. I am not a canvas shoe girl either. So yes, I pick out plain ol' white, indescript and appearantly really ugly tennis shoes. So I am no longer able to choose my own. I am given a few options and can choose between those. Okay. I get it.
So the top photo is of the current tennis shoes I chose from several I could. They aren't what I would have chosen but at least they aren't these...or these.
Now I'm not ready to take back my footware choosing rights. It's really one less thing I have to worry about doing for myself. Plus when someone doesn't like them I can blame Pickle!
On the wedding trip one of my best, dearest and most honest friends commented they were the ugliest tennis shoes ever. I smiled and said I didn't choose them because I wasn't allowed to do that anymore. Whew! Deflection of ridicule is a good thing!
Then just the other day I was leaving a friend's house - a friend who is a marathon runner and owns 1000 pair of tennis shoes and works at a fancy smancy running shoe store. As I was walking down the steps of her place she commented how much she loved me shoes.
Doh!
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