Shoe love begins...

I am asked quite a bit , "why the shoes?" well , I always remember my Mary Janes I wore as a young girl. My mother would pull us in our red Radio Flyer wagon . First through the tunnel to listen to the trains overhead then to the candy store for our penny candy. With our small brown bag filled to the brim, we set off to get our shoes. I still remember the feeling of standing on the metal device (Brannock) to measure the length and width of my feet. I usually had those silky socks on, you know the ones with the ruffle lace you fold down. I would gaze at the colorful shoes on display and be so excited to see the salesman come through the stock room door carrying the stack of boxes. I can still hear the paper rustle as he pulled them from the box. I can see the shine of the patent leather and to this day I still love to stick my face in a box of new shoes and take a big whiff . It was seeing my mom smile and say yes I could wear them home as she tucked the old shoes in the box . It was seeing my reflection as I twirled in store windows on the walk home. We would stop and spread the blanket somewhere pretty. As I arranged my dolls my mom would unwrap our sandwiches she packed. Braunschweiger, fried bologna, or butter and sugar were among the favorites. Drinking my koolaid from the old green thermos I sat gazing at my shoes watching butterflies and hearing the birds sing. My mom gave us "underdog" pushes on the swings, chased us around the park and made dandelion crowns. My shoes received their first scuffs amongst the giggling and playing. So you see getting shoes were special but why it is engraved in my memory is because of my mother. It was an adventure, she made our days magical. She taught me that it's not what you lack in life but what you make with what you do have. Life is not always easy but it is the moments with the people we love that makes it a wonderful ride.


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shoe photography; jack hansen