If The Shoes Fit...

You know how parents always have Those Stories? About like, the time you stuck something up your nose or whatever?  Something you did that made no sense and drove them nuts?
I blessed my mother with plenty of Those Stories.  One of them would be how even though we lived in the mountains, where it would freeze and snow all winter, I adamantly refused to go to school wearing anything but my patent-leather maryjanes.
Through most of high school, believe it or not, I made my own purses to match each pair of (sky-high-heeled platform) shoes, and I painted my finger and toe nails to match my outfit- every. day.
In college I did my fair share of velour pants and flip-flops- when in Rome, I guess- but I still spent most of those Arizona days in heels and sundresses.
I wore a grey and pink pinstriped, satin-lined business suit and heels to my job interview to be a nanny.  For an infant.  I dressed up for most of my jobs; from director to diaper-changer.
And then I became a mom.
I stopped working and stayed home.  Barely sleeping, rarely leaving the house or interacting with other humans, and spending most of the day handling various body fluids and cleaning agents.  Some strange hormonal imbalance due to childbirth drove me with inexplicable force to chop off my hair (This is an epidemic among new mothers. The CDC should check it out). I wore ballet flats on a fancy day.  
Like Canadian Geese just KNOW which way is south, I intuitively sensed that heels were no longer allowed.  That in my new station in life yoga-pants, T-Shirts, and ponytail was the required uniform.  I wasn't a complete mess (most of the time); I had a washed ponytail, I wore clean ugly sweatpants- I just knew that getting all fancy only to be spit-up on 11 times was silly.  SILLY guys.
But here's the thing.  When I got pregnant with Little Miss it really hit me.
I'm grown up.
I'm not just doing this for now, I'm not doing it on the side.  Someone asked me at a party when I was about six months along, what I "do".  I pointed to my round belly and laughed.  "This is it."
This is it. 
I started thinking about what that means.  I started thinking about what I wanted to "Be" when I grew up. I realized that while the occupation might have varied over the arc of my youth- from ballerina to nurse to professor and so on- what I wanted to Be was more of a feeling; the way I wanted to conduct myself and feel about myself, in any role.  While there are dozens of things I've wanted (and still want) to do when I grow up, you know what I really always wanted to be?  Myself.
Happy with My Self.
And here I am, all grown up. Really.  So if I'm ever going to be what I want to be when I grow up...now is the time.  And so for starters I started waking up in the morning and instead of wearing the "uniform", I started getting dressed like Me.
I was happy to find out how much better I felt from day to day, how much more I felt like I was in the right line of work because I felt more comfortable in my own skin. 
But what really surprised me was the reaction I got from my "colleagues".
Since moving here, where my daughter goes to school with children who all have these dazzlingly pretty moms, for Pete's sake, I have received SO much attention over my SHOES.  I tell you I have had literally dozens of comments- at least one from almost every mom I have met, as well as all of Little One's teachers and several of J's coworkers- about my shoes.  
 People seem to be as shocked by a stay-at-home mom in heels as if I showed up for preschool drop-off wearing a leather cat-woman suit and a couple of writhing-snake medusa heads. 
"You wear those to clean the floors?" "
You can carry a baby around in those?"  
"Is there some reason you wear those all the time?"
In not particularly mean-spirited tones (but still interestingly, I think) I have been called Betty Crocker.  I have been called a Stepford wife.  Partly I guess because I like to bake and do art projects with my kid, but honestly I think it's mostly about the shoes.
I've met some amazing moms here. We've had some great conversations about, among other things, the various complexities of raising girls in today's America.  About the Pink Princess culture and the messages of objectification, materialism, and over-sexualization that batter them from all angles.  Issues I am plenty concerned about.  But when these issues come up, they tend to circle around...to my shoes.  Not in a nasty way, but a "why do you feel the need to thwart my message of feminism by parading about in those contraptions all the time?" kind of way.  A dumbfounded way.  A why on earth would you? kind of way.
Recently during a conversation like this, I was asked what kind of message I think I'm sending to my daughter. By wearing, you know.  THOSE.  All the time.
So I thought about it.
In case you've seen me walking to school in THOSE and you are wondering also, here is the answer:
I don't know.
Little One once overheard Her friend's mother (who is going through a divorce) talk about how the friend's daddy didn't live in her house because her parents weren't married anymore. And for a week She cried every time J left for work because She thought that if he wasn't at home we ceased to be married. And you remember the Say Cheese episode? Not to mention Her interpretation of what I do all day.
Which is simply to say that my child is three and some things are lost in translation.  That She extrapolates what She will from any given circumstance and I have very little control over the way Her brain processes things, when it comes down to it, even when I try.  So I don't know what message my child gets from the elevation of my footwear.
But I can tell you what I hope.
IF my shoes are sending messages to my little girl, I hope they are saying this:

1) Take yourself seriously
You might be the CEO. Or the President! You might not.  Whatever you do, take it seriously.  I don't care if you are a senator or a businessperson or a teacher or a janitor or an artist or a stay-at-home-mom.  Never put "just" before your job-description; not when you say it, not when you think it.  If it's your job, treat it like it matters.  Show up in whatever outfit and attitude help you do that.

2) Get up in the morning and take on the world
Wake up. Today day may bring a jet to France! The day may bring 8 hours of collating papers. It might be seven loads of laundry.  But the point is, go for it. Get up like you are ready to take it on, whatever it is. Take it on! And remember that anything can happen. So get ready for it.


3) Glamor comes from inside
 No, you don't need fancy shoes to be fancy. You don't need to be a princess or a ballerina or a supermodel.  You don't need perfect hair or the perfect figure, or expensive clothes or anybody's permission. Glamorous is about feeling as fancy as you want to be.  Go ahead and wear your party dress to the grocery store.  Wear lipstick when no one else will see it.  Or just be confident and use good manners. Smile. We all have a little princess, a little diva in us. Express yours any way you want to, whenever you want to, as much as you want to.  For you.

4) Have fun with life
Even if you were a princess, life would get mundane at times.  We all have to go through routines and get our chores done.  It's not all five-star hotels and roller-coasters.  Not literally. But day-to-day life is fun- as fun as you make it.  That's why we have sudden dance parties in the kitchen. It's why we jump in puddles. It's why we play dress-up.  Find what's fun for you, then sprinkle it like spices into a pan, all over your life.

5) Don't buy into stereotypes, and don't be afraid of them.
Girls don't all like princesses.  Boys don't all like sports.  Stay-home moms don't all wear sweat pants. Powerful people don't all wear suits. Sometimes the innocuous-looking person is dangerous, sometimes the scary-looking person is sweet.  Wearing glasses doesn't make you a nerd, or smart. Being a cheerleader doesn't make you shallow, or cool. Sometimes tough guys cry. Sometimes little girls in pink tutus are feisty and tough.  Sometimes the mom baking cupcakes in heels is a graduate-degree holding feminist who has worked as both a butt-wiper and construction worker. 
You seriously never know.
So resist the temptation to label others. And, more importantly, resist the tendency to label yourself. If you like glasses, wear them. Don't think whether it will make you "seem" too smart or too nerdy. If you like tackle football, play.  If you like rap, or country, or heavy metal, or showtunes, listen and Rock Out! Never let someone elses idea of of "should" dictate you.


 6) Be Yourself
Which brings me to the Main Thing.  If my shoes are talking and they say nothing else, I hope they say this: Be You.
Don't be what is expected. Don't be what you think is 'normal'. Don't be what doesn't rock the boat.  Be You.
My Nana, in her 90's, still wears splashy colors and gaudy jewelry.  If someone were to call her tacky, she'd say "hell yes I'm tacky! Ha!" But mostly people just call her awesome.  Because she rocks those three-inch hoop earrings. She looks amazing because she is the right kind of coordinated- her outsides match her insides.
Does everyone belong in 3-inch hoops or 3-inch heels?  No. Do I give a flying rat-squirrel if you don't like my style and you prefer air jordans or converse sneakers or tivos or CVS flip-flops? No! Will I be some kind of disappointed if my girls grow up and wear the same pair of scuffed-up hiking boots every single day? Hell NO! Will I be some kind of disappointed if they don't? No. In the much-overused (but I think very wise) words of my sister's ex-boyfriend:  
Girl. You do you, and I'll do me.
Me.
I happen, by whatever concoction of nature, nurture, DNA, MTV, or heavenly mandate, to be a girly girl.  I am not a baggy-jeans T-shirt kind of girl.  I'm a "oooh, can we bedazzle that?!" kind of girl.
I am not a sit-on-the sidelines, follow-the-leader kind of girl.  I'm a walk-tall kind of girl. A maryjanes in the snow girl.   I retain the right to change my Self and my style whenever and however I want to. Because my feet and my Self belong to ME and I can do whatever the heck I want to with them.  But for now, myself has a few pairs of shoes.  They have heels.  And at the moment they fit me.  So I'm going to wear them.