These Shoes Suck

In an ode to my favorite youtube link, I write to you about a serious matter.

Growing up with ham hocks for feet never really bothered me as a kid, because I didn't care what I looked like (see profile pic). Pink moccasins with red corduroy pants were fine – more than fine, in fact. It was portrait-day worthy. I also recall spending a large portion of my middle school days wearing this fine pair of white, leather keds. They didn't have them in my size, so I think I romped around the playground in a loose-fitting size 11. Let's be honest, I spent the majority of my younger days wearing athletic shoes and eating small children, so it was never hard finding clodhoppers that fit my giant Hobbit feet.

As an adult, my quest to find remotely attractive shoes in the 10+ size range remains completely dehumanizing and fruitless. Last week's trip to TJMaxx only solidified these feelings. I always set myself up for failure when I start my search in the size 6 aisle. Mary janes, black leather stilettos, summer wedges, formal dress heels, ballerina flats, retro sneakers – you name it, they have it in size 6. The color selections are endless, the designer names are plentiful and they're always restocking the shelves with new pairs.

As I slowly approach the 10+ row (yes, they actually add a plus sign to the end of it, like you just fell off the growth chart of human possibility), you can almost hear the sound of elephants stampeding to find their aisle. It's like an island of misfit toys section of leftover fabric and plastic soles that could be salvaged into a Frankenstein shoe and other clearance items that have no hope to ever find a home.

This is my section. Pics above are not staged.

The options are limitless. It's either Grandma's closet or Raymond Babbitt, your choice. I choose suicide.

Fuck you, plus-sized shoes aisle. That is all.