Le Scarpe Italiane

(That means "Italian shoes," but I guess Clarks aren't really Italian, are they?  Ah, well, I bought 'em in Italy, so they're Italian.)

So I went and bought new shoes the other day.  I went to the Clarks shop near the Pantheon because I've had luck with Clarks before, and it looked like they had several good pairs of walking shoes on the Clarks site.  Sadly, the selection at the brick-and-mortar store wasn't nearly as good.  Lots of very good-looking shoes, but nothing like I was looking for . . . until I looked at the side that was clearly full of men's shoes.

Now, I like a chunky shoe.  Have ever since the nineties, and have never really been able to get away from it.  Remember that scene in Can't Hardly Wait where Seth Green's character asks Lauren Ambrose's character about her shoes?  "What's wrong with my shoes?"

"Well, do they serve some sort of orthopedic function?"

Aside from the load-bearing work that my shoes, in particular, must do (which I guess does make them somewhat orthopedic in function in fact) I feel that they balance things out better visually for me.  The men's side of the store called to me with all sorts of stylish and sporty black shoes.  I waited until the shop cleared, and then asked for some help.

Of course I started with my standard opener, which is "Mi dispiace, ma non parlo Italiano molto bene, ma provo."  (This means, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Italian very well, but I try.")  She pointed out right away that the shoes I liked were for men.  I looked at the women's side, which was full of cute little flats and mary-janes with almost no soles on them, and said, "Ma ho bisogno delle scarpe da passeggio." ("But I need walking shoes.")  She walked over the women's side and pulled out the cutest, silliest little pair of what I suppose were women's walking shoes, but I just pointed at the support on the shoe I was holding and said "Maaaaaa...." ("Buuuuut....")

I pointed at another, plainer pair, just plain, tying black shoes.  Although the shop lady understood what I was going for, she couldn't let me go quite that far.  "Oh, no!  Not for you!  Not for you."  I assented, and so I got my men's shoes.  And they are sweet black sporty leather shoes and they felt like heaven the minute I put them on.  Between the new shoes and the fact that my feet have probably gotten a little used to the cobblestones, I'm doing just fine.  Only problem is, my prof Stuart admired them and said he might like to get a pair somewhat like them as well (he is pretty sartorially gifted, so it was a bit flattering).  I guess we'll just have to be sure not to stand next to one another.