Oh the many feet you meet!
Whenever I don't know what to write about I sit in a large open place on campus and watch the people go by.
I pick out one thing to look at on each person - to see how different every personality makes it. I look at their hair, their backpack, their books, the people they're with, or the expression on their face and try to figure out their story.
This week it was shoes.
A Collection of Shoe Stories
There's a girl wearing glittery red heels. They make self-important clacking noises and poke out from her jeans like pointed red witch noses. She's the type of girl who has a deceptively sweet smile - a girl who probably turns down four to five dates a day. She drives a small white convertible with hawaiian print seatcovers and carries her life around inside a Louis Vutton purse the size of Miluakee. She can tell the difference between "burnt creme" foundation and "toasted creme" face powder. She is a Marriage and Family major and has a collection of leather belts large enough to feed twelve third-world countries. She has never worn the same outfit twice, even if it means staying home from class when she's out of laundry. Her name is Kaylie or Julie or some other name that allows her to dot at least one "i" with an empty circle instead of just a dot. Her shoes tell me she cares more about appearance than practicality. They cost more, hurt more, and wear down faster than other shoes, but they look darn cute while they last.
There's a guy wearing white Reeboks with gray and red stripes. He is a Math/Science major with a giant black watch on one hand. His jeans are from the clearance rack at Ross and he eats Macaroni and Tuna for dinner more than once a week. He is the type of guy who forgets to pick up the dry cleaning and has locked himself out of several running cars in his life. He likes Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and knows what a LAN party is. He has beat Halo, Halo II, and thinks that people who hack into RPG's should get the death penalty. He likes girls but not enough to talk to them. The one girlfriend he has had asked him out because she thought he seemed really spiritual. He went on a mission to Brazil or South America. He is the Ward Clerk and carries a Palm Pilot. His shoes tell me he is a smart, practical person but doesn't have a clue about social interaction. He just bought the cheapest shoes that fit comfortably, but failed to see they just don't look good.
There's a guy wearing fitted hiking boots. He is from Oregon and has a colorful variety of zip-up North Face vests. He loves singing and the outdoors. He writes poetry and always has some sort of mousy hemp-purse-toting girlfriend. He has a clean, slick haircut and is taking a songwriting class. He knows how to fix things around the house and could probably be caught chopping his own firewood. He wears Teva's in the summer and loves camping, fishing, hiking, and growing hair on his chest. He has at least four eggs for breakfast every day and has three sets of red flannel sheets. He has an affinity for rustic lodge decor and knows how to make a mean hot cocoa. He wants to be a high school history/biology teacher and get called as Young Mens' President someday so he can change the 50-Mile hike into "How to Survive In a Cave for Two Years with Just One Match." His shoes tell me he's always ready for an adventure, and that he's willing to pay three hundred dollars a foot to ensure a very well-fitted adventure.
There's a girl wearing running shoes. She is the type of girl who wears sweatbands on her wrist and has a collection of bike helmets under her bed. She hates wearing a skirt and her make-up collection includes a few of her mom's old tubes of mascara and one tube of SPF 15 chapstick. She is a Nutrition-Fitness major and has her own rock-climbing gear. She has two drawers in her kitchen devoted to Cliff Bars and Luna Bars. Her idea of a romantic date is going running together before the sun comes up. Her shoes tell me she loves being active and she's not afraid to make life interesting by breaking out into a run. She doesn't really care about how she looks, but it doesn't much matter because she's fit and lively; people just like her.
There's a guy wearing clean white tennis shoes. They are almost offensively clean. He is the kind of guy who wears shell necklaces and polo shirts. He has a gorgeous smile and definitely knows it. He owns more than one wife-beater and doesn't know what it's like to not have a date for the weekend. He is a smooth talker and lifts weights. He is a Communications major and puts up with expensive girlfriends because they look good with his car. His shoes tell me he is too concerned with good-looking shoes to notice he set his bag down on my foot. He wears a nice-smelling cologne but doesn't really have a career plan. He's the kind of guy my sister likes for a boyfriend and is about as deep as a pencil sharpener.
There's a girl wearing brown mules. She has a khaki messenger bag filled with good books and listens to Jack Johnson. She sometimes tucks a pencil behind her ear and doesn't draw attention to herself. She has dimples and watches all six hours of A&E's Pride and Prejudice when she gets depressed. She's an English Teaching major and she likes going to acoustic guitar concerts on Saturday nights. She calls her mom at least once a week and sends clippings of newspaper comics to her younger brother in little yellow envelopes. She likes listening to rain on the window and wants to get married in the temple. She keeps a journal and takes nature walks when she needs to think. Her shoes tell me she is thoughtful but doesn't want to stick out. She is sweet and practical at the same time. She probably wants a puppy or a baby or a hamster to take her mind off of things. She's good at taking care of other people.
There is a girl wearing converse sneakers. She listens to Jimi Hendrix and isn't afraid of the color black. She knows what hummus is and likes it. She can play a few songs on guitar and has a collection of LPs. She likes poetry and Edgar Allan Poe. She scribbles band names in the margins of her books and her favorite director is Tim Burton. She doesn't eat meat. Her shoes tell me she is a classic adolescent - doesn't want to grow up - but isn't a kid anymore. She's sort of a punk, but not a mean kid. She loves rock music.
A Conclusion
There's a couple wearing regular tennis shoes. They're not cheap, but not tailored. They're not awkward and they're not flashy. They're simple and useful.
There's a young man wearing sturdy brown oxfords. He plans to go to grad school and study Old English.
There's a woman wearing sturdy tennis shoes. She's going back to college to get her degree in Business after working as a secretary for nine years. She's never been married and has three cats at home.
So many stories to think about, I wonder how many are true. I wonder about them when they put their shoes on in the morning. I wonder about them when they listen to their music or talk to their friends. I wonder about their families, if they have families. I wonder about their jobs and what their grocery list looks like. I wonder what their answering machine says and I wonder what they do when they're alone.
But all I can see are their shoes.
I wonder what I'd think of if I saw myself walking by.
Perhaps I should buy new shoes.
I pick out one thing to look at on each person - to see how different every personality makes it. I look at their hair, their backpack, their books, the people they're with, or the expression on their face and try to figure out their story.
This week it was shoes.
A Collection of Shoe Stories
There's a girl wearing glittery red heels. They make self-important clacking noises and poke out from her jeans like pointed red witch noses. She's the type of girl who has a deceptively sweet smile - a girl who probably turns down four to five dates a day. She drives a small white convertible with hawaiian print seatcovers and carries her life around inside a Louis Vutton purse the size of Miluakee. She can tell the difference between "burnt creme" foundation and "toasted creme" face powder. She is a Marriage and Family major and has a collection of leather belts large enough to feed twelve third-world countries. She has never worn the same outfit twice, even if it means staying home from class when she's out of laundry. Her name is Kaylie or Julie or some other name that allows her to dot at least one "i" with an empty circle instead of just a dot. Her shoes tell me she cares more about appearance than practicality. They cost more, hurt more, and wear down faster than other shoes, but they look darn cute while they last.
There's a guy wearing white Reeboks with gray and red stripes. He is a Math/Science major with a giant black watch on one hand. His jeans are from the clearance rack at Ross and he eats Macaroni and Tuna for dinner more than once a week. He is the type of guy who forgets to pick up the dry cleaning and has locked himself out of several running cars in his life. He likes Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and knows what a LAN party is. He has beat Halo, Halo II, and thinks that people who hack into RPG's should get the death penalty. He likes girls but not enough to talk to them. The one girlfriend he has had asked him out because she thought he seemed really spiritual. He went on a mission to Brazil or South America. He is the Ward Clerk and carries a Palm Pilot. His shoes tell me he is a smart, practical person but doesn't have a clue about social interaction. He just bought the cheapest shoes that fit comfortably, but failed to see they just don't look good.
There's a guy wearing fitted hiking boots. He is from Oregon and has a colorful variety of zip-up North Face vests. He loves singing and the outdoors. He writes poetry and always has some sort of mousy hemp-purse-toting girlfriend. He has a clean, slick haircut and is taking a songwriting class. He knows how to fix things around the house and could probably be caught chopping his own firewood. He wears Teva's in the summer and loves camping, fishing, hiking, and growing hair on his chest. He has at least four eggs for breakfast every day and has three sets of red flannel sheets. He has an affinity for rustic lodge decor and knows how to make a mean hot cocoa. He wants to be a high school history/biology teacher and get called as Young Mens' President someday so he can change the 50-Mile hike into "How to Survive In a Cave for Two Years with Just One Match." His shoes tell me he's always ready for an adventure, and that he's willing to pay three hundred dollars a foot to ensure a very well-fitted adventure.
There's a girl wearing running shoes. She is the type of girl who wears sweatbands on her wrist and has a collection of bike helmets under her bed. She hates wearing a skirt and her make-up collection includes a few of her mom's old tubes of mascara and one tube of SPF 15 chapstick. She is a Nutrition-Fitness major and has her own rock-climbing gear. She has two drawers in her kitchen devoted to Cliff Bars and Luna Bars. Her idea of a romantic date is going running together before the sun comes up. Her shoes tell me she loves being active and she's not afraid to make life interesting by breaking out into a run. She doesn't really care about how she looks, but it doesn't much matter because she's fit and lively; people just like her.
There's a guy wearing clean white tennis shoes. They are almost offensively clean. He is the kind of guy who wears shell necklaces and polo shirts. He has a gorgeous smile and definitely knows it. He owns more than one wife-beater and doesn't know what it's like to not have a date for the weekend. He is a smooth talker and lifts weights. He is a Communications major and puts up with expensive girlfriends because they look good with his car. His shoes tell me he is too concerned with good-looking shoes to notice he set his bag down on my foot. He wears a nice-smelling cologne but doesn't really have a career plan. He's the kind of guy my sister likes for a boyfriend and is about as deep as a pencil sharpener.
There's a girl wearing brown mules. She has a khaki messenger bag filled with good books and listens to Jack Johnson. She sometimes tucks a pencil behind her ear and doesn't draw attention to herself. She has dimples and watches all six hours of A&E's Pride and Prejudice when she gets depressed. She's an English Teaching major and she likes going to acoustic guitar concerts on Saturday nights. She calls her mom at least once a week and sends clippings of newspaper comics to her younger brother in little yellow envelopes. She likes listening to rain on the window and wants to get married in the temple. She keeps a journal and takes nature walks when she needs to think. Her shoes tell me she is thoughtful but doesn't want to stick out. She is sweet and practical at the same time. She probably wants a puppy or a baby or a hamster to take her mind off of things. She's good at taking care of other people.
There is a girl wearing converse sneakers. She listens to Jimi Hendrix and isn't afraid of the color black. She knows what hummus is and likes it. She can play a few songs on guitar and has a collection of LPs. She likes poetry and Edgar Allan Poe. She scribbles band names in the margins of her books and her favorite director is Tim Burton. She doesn't eat meat. Her shoes tell me she is a classic adolescent - doesn't want to grow up - but isn't a kid anymore. She's sort of a punk, but not a mean kid. She loves rock music.
A Conclusion
There's a couple wearing regular tennis shoes. They're not cheap, but not tailored. They're not awkward and they're not flashy. They're simple and useful.
There's a young man wearing sturdy brown oxfords. He plans to go to grad school and study Old English.
There's a woman wearing sturdy tennis shoes. She's going back to college to get her degree in Business after working as a secretary for nine years. She's never been married and has three cats at home.
So many stories to think about, I wonder how many are true. I wonder about them when they put their shoes on in the morning. I wonder about them when they listen to their music or talk to their friends. I wonder about their families, if they have families. I wonder about their jobs and what their grocery list looks like. I wonder what their answering machine says and I wonder what they do when they're alone.
But all I can see are their shoes.
I wonder what I'd think of if I saw myself walking by.
Perhaps I should buy new shoes.