I went shoe shopping yesterday.
No specific style in mind, just knew I needed something casual. Something to keep up with the kids, ya know? I was replacing a pair of worn-out flats, shoes that had seen so much use there were actual holes in the soles.
Wandering the aisles at my store of choice I came across a selection of sneaker-esq shoes in a variety of colours. I say “sneaker-esq” because they all had the stylin’s of your typical running shoe, minus the time-wasting hassle of laces. Slip-ons, if you will.
Bingo. And they have it in black … perfect.
Before even trying them on, I knew they would be mine.
Easy to put on? Yes. Comfortable? Looks like it. Grippy soles so less worries of slipping while holding baby? You betcha. And with the practical choice of black for the colour, I could easily go from the park to shopping to a casual dinner if need be.
Check. Check. Check. Aaaaaannd …. check.
I squatted down to find my size amongst the stack of boxes, and it was then that I noticed the writing on the label:
Add "Ball Gag" and this might a box for something entirely different
"Easy entry. Padded sock. Rubber sole.”
Seeing it written out, coinciding almost exactly with what I had been looking for I realized how incredibly lame I’ve now become.
And I know I’ve written about this many times before but it was a cold, hard realization as I crouched there in The Shoe Warehouse that snowy Saturday afternoon. The tired mid-30s mother, wearing her $35 Costco jacket with a purse full of used tissues and snack crumbs, grabbing a stolen hour of time on a weekend to go shopping for some desperately-needed shoes.
The woman who’s wants have become so predictable that they’ve literally been written on the side of a discount-priced shoe box.
“Easy entry. Padded sock. Rubber sole.”
And then I actually pulled the box from its place, and stared in horrified awe at the image on top.
OMG, Zumba is awesome y'all!
If ever there was a stereotypical mid-30s mom model, this would be she. Kudos to you, Sketchers marketing team. Kudos.
“Look at me, world!” she seems to be saying. “I’m Sassy Mom! Sassy with a capital “S”! I wear my easy entry, padded sock, rubber soled shoes with pride because you know what? Ain’t nobody got time for doin’ up laces when there’s kids running around!”
And her outfit-of-choice? Maybe its yoga wear, maybe its jeggings and a tank. But we’ve all seen it, every mom has something similar, and the very combination screams “I get my 20 minutes of Jillian Michaels in while the kids are napping, bitches!”.
So yes. My selection, quite clearly, was Mom Shoes. Suburban Mom Shoes, more specifically.
Am I proud of this fact? No.
Did I buy them anyways?
|The toilet paper in the background really classes this up|
Ain’t nobody got time for doin’ up laces when there’s kids running around. Nobody.