When I was young, I got to pick out shoes every fall at the athletic store with my dad. I always went for the most brightly colored ones. I remember the look of woe on dad's face when I went for the paint-splattered neon LA Gear high-tops instead of the sleek, no-nonsense tennis shoes that real athletes wore.
Then in high school, I bought hippy shoes and witch shoes and punk shoes.
Then in college, I bought hippy shoes and witch shoes and punk shoes.
And a pair of fringed cowboy boots that I was too puss to wear in public.
And then I bought comfortable, sensible work shoes.
And then I bought comfortable, sensible, one-size-larger pregnancy shoes.