Friday Confessions: Me and my carnie feet

I’m starting a weekly feature titled Friday Confessions (to be done on Fridays), wherein I reveal something about myself that may cause you to gasp, swoon, chuckle, or fear. Doesn’t that sound scintillating? Let us begin.

Some of you may not know this but I am petite in stature and have the feet to match. Carnie feet as some have referred to them, only to be said in a thick Irish brogue (I don’t know why. It just sounds better). I mean no offense to actual carnies, which I am not. Can’t remember the last time I worked at a carnival, and as far as I know, I don’t smell like cabbage. But now that I’m really taking the time to think about it, I’m not even sure that carnies stereotypically have small feet. I don’t know one in person so I can’t attest to the validity of calling my small feet carnie feet. The cabbage smell, however, has been scientifically proven so don’t send me emails about that one. Nevertheless, my feet have been monikered carnie feet. Behold!

These are my feet with the added bonus of super-whiteness! (Do you know how hard it is to take a good picture of your own feet, let alone feet in general. Would have been completely impossible had I been pregnant). Just keep reading and try as best you can to not be jealous. Too late you say! You’re probably just green with envy or some such emotion, thinking how I am so lucky to have such wondrously nymph-like feet. But truth be told, it’s actually a very sore spot for me, not because I hate my feet but because finding shoes that fit me is a rarity. Shoe shopping is a deeply depressing activity, and I avoid it like I do all things Pee Wee Herman. If I didn’t like shoes there would really be no dilemma. I’d just prance around with my tiny barefoot fairie feet and be at peace with the world. But I happen to actually like shoes (that don’t require the wearing of socks). I’m like a kid who has been denied candy his/her whole life. If ever they finally made beautiful shoes in my size, I would buy one pair of each, even if they were completely heinous. That’s how deprived I’ve been. I guess it’s probably best though that I haven’t been able to find a pair of leopard print stilettos that fit perfectly. That’s not really me. Maybe in another life brother.

But let’s get down to specifics. Depending on the type of shoe, I wear a 4 ½ to 5 ½, or so says the shoe salesman. If shoes with Dora the Explorer or Barbie printed all over made me salivate, there would be a goldmine of options. But as luck would have it, I like something a little more understated and age appropriate.

So you can imagine my complete and utter joy when I do find something that stays on my foot, and doesn’t have Sleeping Beauty dancing on it. Sometimes it does happen, usually when I’m not shoe shopping on purpose. And when it does, I buy them, no questions asked. I don’t even stop to think if I actually need them or if I will use them. The Husband actually encourages this because he hates when I go on shoe searches, and he doubly hates my surly attitude when my efforts are fruitless.

Well my dear friends, I just have to share with you my latest finds. Thank you Target. Thank you Merona. I snatched these right up, and they were on sale. Some little redhead is ready for summer. It was a good day for me and my carnie feet.

 

Have a lovely weekend my dear little poopsies!