Vans--Off the Wall
Long time, no post. Lots of personal stuff hit, and I don't have the distance to be comfortable blogging about any of it right now, but it is definitely effecting my mood, and the cranky bitca part of me now goes to 11. (Okay, so it sort of always did, but now it's stuck there.)
Anyway, this post is about one of my favorite things in the world: shoes. I am no Carry Bradshaw. I am not willing to wear gorgeous shoes that hurt my feet or spend hundreds of dollars on a *pair* of shoes, but I do love shoes, particularly sandals and boots. I own WAY more sandals than a woman who resides full-time in Pittsburgh needs to own, but I love them. I see a cute pair by a designer I know fits my freak feet well, and I am powerless. I'll buy shoes in colors I wouldn't consider owning clothes in, and I'll wear them. Proudly. (Case in point: I own a pair of chartreuse brocade Chuck Taylor hi-tops while I wouldn't even consider chartreuse as a valid color choice for anything else I put on my body.)
However, this is not about sandals or boots. This is about Vans. In Southern California, when I was in 5th grade, the Vans classic slip-on became THE shoe any self-respecting pre-teen owned, especially because you could CUSTOMIZE them. And I'm not talking about the lame-ass customizing options they offer on their website now. I mean a full range of colors, patterns, and you could get images printed on the foxing.
Needless to say, I begged my parents to take me to the Vans shop in Encinitas and let me order a custom-made pair of Vans. And for my 11th birthday, they let me. My dad got drafted to take me to the shop. In hindsight, my mother realized that was a mistake. My dad was never an individual who cared about fashion. He cared about comfort and being dressed appropriately for the situation. As long as I had all my bits covered and I wasn't wearing jeans to a church service, he didn't care how I dressed. My dad was also color-blind, which explains how I was allowed to order a custom pair of Vans that were purple on the vamp and heel, hot pink on the quarter, vamp binding, and foxing stripe, and contained a purple and hot-pink checkerboard pattern on the foxing.
It should be noted that my mom's favorite color for clothes is taupe in all of its many dull incarnations-her overall style is classic and tailored with, perhaps, an imperceptible nod to trend with an accessory, and she worked very hard to impart her sense of style to me--some of it did stick, but I still hate taupe.
My mom gasped in horror when we went to pick them up. When we got home, she showed them to my dad and asked him how he could have let me do that. My dad shrugged and said they looked fine to him. My mom shook her head at the two of us, handed me the shoes, and worked really hard not to grimace every time I had them on my feet, which was always.
In my defense, I can say, chartreuse hi-tops aside, that I would not wear those shoes now. But at 11, they were my favorite-st shoes ever and I wore them with everything until I outgrew them and begged to get another pair. This time, my mom took me, and despite her efforts to interest me in the plain navy slip-ons and white slip-ons, and in one last desperate bid, the black and white checkboard slip-ons, I was allowed to order a pair that was aqua on the vamp and heel, white on the quarter with an aqua foxing stripe and rainbows printed around the foxing. Neither of us got exactly what we wanted as I had wanted red on the quarter and foxing stripe, and my mom wanted something that could not be seen from outer space. However, I really loved those shoes, too.
But the Vans trend passed to be replaced by something else, and I didn't think about them much until I was in college in Pittsburgh, checking out a sale at a shoe shop and came across a pair of white classic slip-on Vans. I hadn't ever seen Vans outside of Southern California, and struck with nostalgia and the memory that they were some of the most comfortable shoes I had ever owned, I bought them, and wore them for years until they fell apart.
A few weeks ago, something made me think of Vans, and I went to their website. I was happy to find I could order the slip-ons but sorely disappointed in the customizing options. They don't even print anything on the foxing anymore. However, I did find two pair I couldn't resist in their regular options, and I ordered them both. What's funny is both styles have since disappeared from the web store. One is a plaid in grey, light green, lavender, and peach with little skulls scattered through out, and the other is an aqua and brown aloha print, and of course, I madly love both pair.
My mom and I met for ice cream last week, and I was wearing the aloha ones. She couldn't keep the grimace off of her face when she noticed them--"Vans, are they still making those?"
Anyway, this post is about one of my favorite things in the world: shoes. I am no Carry Bradshaw. I am not willing to wear gorgeous shoes that hurt my feet or spend hundreds of dollars on a *pair* of shoes, but I do love shoes, particularly sandals and boots. I own WAY more sandals than a woman who resides full-time in Pittsburgh needs to own, but I love them. I see a cute pair by a designer I know fits my freak feet well, and I am powerless. I'll buy shoes in colors I wouldn't consider owning clothes in, and I'll wear them. Proudly. (Case in point: I own a pair of chartreuse brocade Chuck Taylor hi-tops while I wouldn't even consider chartreuse as a valid color choice for anything else I put on my body.)
However, this is not about sandals or boots. This is about Vans. In Southern California, when I was in 5th grade, the Vans classic slip-on became THE shoe any self-respecting pre-teen owned, especially because you could CUSTOMIZE them. And I'm not talking about the lame-ass customizing options they offer on their website now. I mean a full range of colors, patterns, and you could get images printed on the foxing.
Needless to say, I begged my parents to take me to the Vans shop in Encinitas and let me order a custom-made pair of Vans. And for my 11th birthday, they let me. My dad got drafted to take me to the shop. In hindsight, my mother realized that was a mistake. My dad was never an individual who cared about fashion. He cared about comfort and being dressed appropriately for the situation. As long as I had all my bits covered and I wasn't wearing jeans to a church service, he didn't care how I dressed. My dad was also color-blind, which explains how I was allowed to order a custom pair of Vans that were purple on the vamp and heel, hot pink on the quarter, vamp binding, and foxing stripe, and contained a purple and hot-pink checkerboard pattern on the foxing.
It should be noted that my mom's favorite color for clothes is taupe in all of its many dull incarnations-her overall style is classic and tailored with, perhaps, an imperceptible nod to trend with an accessory, and she worked very hard to impart her sense of style to me--some of it did stick, but I still hate taupe.
My mom gasped in horror when we went to pick them up. When we got home, she showed them to my dad and asked him how he could have let me do that. My dad shrugged and said they looked fine to him. My mom shook her head at the two of us, handed me the shoes, and worked really hard not to grimace every time I had them on my feet, which was always.
In my defense, I can say, chartreuse hi-tops aside, that I would not wear those shoes now. But at 11, they were my favorite-st shoes ever and I wore them with everything until I outgrew them and begged to get another pair. This time, my mom took me, and despite her efforts to interest me in the plain navy slip-ons and white slip-ons, and in one last desperate bid, the black and white checkboard slip-ons, I was allowed to order a pair that was aqua on the vamp and heel, white on the quarter with an aqua foxing stripe and rainbows printed around the foxing. Neither of us got exactly what we wanted as I had wanted red on the quarter and foxing stripe, and my mom wanted something that could not be seen from outer space. However, I really loved those shoes, too.
But the Vans trend passed to be replaced by something else, and I didn't think about them much until I was in college in Pittsburgh, checking out a sale at a shoe shop and came across a pair of white classic slip-on Vans. I hadn't ever seen Vans outside of Southern California, and struck with nostalgia and the memory that they were some of the most comfortable shoes I had ever owned, I bought them, and wore them for years until they fell apart.
A few weeks ago, something made me think of Vans, and I went to their website. I was happy to find I could order the slip-ons but sorely disappointed in the customizing options. They don't even print anything on the foxing anymore. However, I did find two pair I couldn't resist in their regular options, and I ordered them both. What's funny is both styles have since disappeared from the web store. One is a plaid in grey, light green, lavender, and peach with little skulls scattered through out, and the other is an aqua and brown aloha print, and of course, I madly love both pair.
My mom and I met for ice cream last week, and I was wearing the aloha ones. She couldn't keep the grimace off of her face when she noticed them--"Vans, are they still making those?"