Essay ~ Shoes ~ NL ~ 3

Shoes

By: Naomi Lea

     Does one's choice of footwear reflect a person's personality or life experiences? I believe it does. Usually, when someone buys a pair of shoes, there is a reason behind the act, however frivolous or purposeful it may be. Hiking trips call for sturdy boots with ankle support. Fancy balls and galas require heels that sparkle and go with the gown. Everyday commuting shoes need to be clean, casual, and comfortable, depending one one's occupation. I usually sport a pair of grey Vans that go with just about any colored clothing, and I sometimes interchange them with brown hiking boots or brown heeled boots.

     What I wear speaks to what I do on a daily basis. By their neutral and plain design, my Vans say that I obviously do not like a lot of attention drawn to my feet. The brown casual boots are waterproof and good for woodsy treks and walks around town. They say that I like to be active and need footwear that protect my feet in the activities I like to do. My heeled boots show that I occasionally need to dress up and make the impression that I actually care about what I'm wearing. Luckily, these dressier boots are also waterproof and comfortable even though I'm elevated a few inches higher than usual.

     Just as my shoes speak for their owner, other shoes do the same. I ride the subway everyday and whether I sit or stand, my sights are cast down towards the floor so I don't accidentally stare into the midst and lock eyes with a random person. However, with this indoor landscape view, I have lines and lines of shoes around me filling my peripheral vision. Each pair goes along with its wearer and tells a little bit of their story.

     
     I see the business shoes that hug leather briefcases set on the floor. There are combat boots from soldiers with their camouflage pant cuffs tucked into the olive green socks. Folks wear running shoes that look like they have accumulated some mileage and walking shoes that look fresh out of the box. Name brands like Nike, Puma, Adidas, New Balance, and Sketchers walk before me, showing that their owners either truly care about the quality of their shoes, or they know what brands the actors and idols of South Korea wear. Many choose shoes that specifically go with their outfits, while some folks evidently wear that one pair every single day and will probably buy another similar or identical pair to continue doing the same. Some shoes are dirtier than others, indicating that the wearer either does not take care of the shoes or lives in a rural or muddy area. Sometimes I feel confident enough in my ability to tell a person by their shoes that I don't bother to look up and see who they really are. Especially when I see shoes that blare the brands make young people flock to them because their favorite K-pop star or actor wears them. Many people in Korea pick their shoes so they can be like everyone else; desperately trying to keep the standards without sticking out of the mold. I can't say that I don't do the same.

     Then, my eye catches a familiar design. I see some shoes that remind me of what my grandma used to wear. The elderly woman, probably a grandmother herself, sits on the subway seat facing me and wears black shoes that are a mix between sneakers and generic orthopedics. They have laces, but also a Velcro strap at the top. She probably doesn't want to have to bend down to bother with the laces, hence the fastening ease. Looking up, I can see her head on her chest, softly snoring. A few buzzes from her lap cause her to slowly wake and I see using her smart phone encased in a bedazzled black and silver folding wallet with a shiny strap. She brings it very close to her face, and her eyes squint as she taps slowly on the screen, each touchscreen button accompanied with a loud "clack," sound effect. She then pulls out a small plastic bag of rice cakes from her purse and begins to snack on them.

     Many elderly women over age fifty wear such shoes and exhibit similar behaviors. When those types of shoes come onto the scene, I know right away who wears them and probably how old they are. However, today, I think about this woman and her phase of life as associated with her shoes. One day, I will be her age (Lord willing) and will want extra support for my feet. Will I be trading in my laces for Velcro straps because my back will be too pained to keep bending down? Will I be pulling out traditional rice cakes from my bag and snacking on them as I ride the subway? Will there even be subway trains when I'm that old, or will we have teleportation by then? Well, that question can wait for another time.

     In my pondering, the old grandmother alights from her seat and gets off at the last stop. There now sits a middle aged man with black loafers, ankles stacked and arms crossed. I don't bother to look at his face. In a few stops, I will also have to get up and carry on with my own commute. I have to keep on in my own shoes for today and worry about the shoes of tomorrow for when it's actually time to wear them.