Billionaire mayor Michael Bloomberg has said he owns six pairs of shoes. Billionaire felon Bernie Madoff owned several hundred pairs of shoes. I am more Bloomberg than Bernie.
Suddenly I seem to own upward of 16 pairs of shoes, not including slippers, hiking boots, running shoes, and squash shoes, which are really just volleyball shoes with a 20 percent price bump thrown in because look at the toffs who play squash, after all. My inventory does include cross-country ski boots, two pairs of snow boots, and an amazing pair of galoshes I bought from Londonderry, N.H.-based Herrington catalog purveyors.
Yes, I also own a pair of rubber overshoes, but I am especially fond of my galoshes. They are totally retro, and they provide superb protection for whatever shoes you might be wearing to a party or evening event. (Women get to carry a spare pair of shoes to winter events, a privilege not afforded to men.) I usually kill three or four minutes in someone’s doorway, unsnapping my galoshes while checking out the other guests and the catering situation. Half the time I just strap the galumpers back on and return home to watch “Law & Order’’ reruns.
But I digress. How did things get this bad? In part I blame the Internet. I own several pairs of cheesy Lands’ End walking shoes, purchased off a splash ad promising unlimited comfort for $49. Comfort costs more, I am here to tell you. Just last week, I bought a pair of “rock shoes’’ because the company was offering free shipping. The waterproof rock shoes join my water shoes, my neoprene ankle boots, and my two sets of waterproof “sealskin’’ socks, all of which I convinced myself were necessary for rowing a single shell, or scull, in wintertime.
1. They are not necessary. 2. You shouldn’t be rowing in wintertime, unless it’s in Long Beach, Calif., which I did this winter, but I’m off on another tangent here.
