A lot of fun and a little weirdness might be descriptive for two Southern sisters who want to tell the world to "Get Zapponized!" Sister, the younger, and I (a.k.a Sissy) grew up in a small mountain town in North Carolina where family values were rampant and people actually knew each other. The definitive force in our lives was Mother. Mother was not only beautiful and intelligent; she knew how to dress. Mother looked like she stepped from the pages of "Vogue" every day. Even her sleepwear and "house shoes" were glamorous.
Mother lived by the mantra that ladies needed to accessorize; simply put, you could never have too many shoes, hats, shoes, purses, shoes, gloves and jewelry. Did I mention shoes? At one time, she had over 100 pairs of shoes in her tiny closet and at least that many carefully stored in the basement. Remember, houses built in the 1950's rarely had the closet space we think is necessary today. Mother would not part with her shoes, insisting that they would come back into fashion. She wore a 6.5 AAAA and preferred heels, even around the house. This size sounds big to the two of us but would you believe that neither of us could wear any of Mother's shoes? They were too small! When she broke her foot in her late sixties, this was a devastating blow to her sense of style since she was forced to wear flats and shoes with support.
Mother worked in the city as a government employee and had access to retail therapy daily on her lunch hour. Monthly, she would treat herself to a purchase from one of her favorite shops. The owners and the salespeople knew Mother by name and often called her when an item "worthy" of her time had appeared in their shops. These same people knew both of us since the nuances of shopping were instilled at an early age. Yes, our dolls had fur coats from scraps that the furrier gave us while Mother was in his store.
Shoes were the one purchase that constituted a planned trip, complete with lunch or dinner. Our dear father was always welcomed on these excursions and was a beloved enabler from our earliest memories. Even in our youth, Sister and I had difficult feet to fit. Do you remember those metal "things" that measured the length and width of your foot? The salesperson always knew the exact size you needed and it fit like a glove. What happened to those devices and measuring your feet? Amazing how people just assume their size and buy shoes, even ones that fit poorly. For several of my elementary years, I wore the dreaded corrective shoe...think saddle shoes and oxfords. Only on special occasions could I wear a pretty shoe, which I called my patent "ledgers". Sister's feet did not suffer this indignity but were nonetheless difficult to fit.
Sister have amazed and amused our dear husbands by the sheer volume of our shoe collections. When my closet was re-modeled, I asked for shelving just for shoes, for at least seventy-five pairs. Sister's closet has her shoes in ninety-eight boxes by color and heel height. Now these are just our "closet" shoes. Shoes for walking, yard work, weather, marathons (Sister) and riding (my area) are not in this count. I wear a 5.5 B which is almost extinct except at ZAPPOS. Sister wears a 6 AAA and again, can you say: ZAPPOS? When did the shoe industry decide that there was little demand for these sizes? Our husbands are most supportive of their shoe aficionado wives, enablers just like our father. They encourage our passion but only if the shoe fits and is adorable. Life is too short to wear ugly shoes!
The only member of our combined families who gets more shoes than either of us is my horse, Honey.
Mother lived by the mantra that ladies needed to accessorize; simply put, you could never have too many shoes, hats, shoes, purses, shoes, gloves and jewelry. Did I mention shoes? At one time, she had over 100 pairs of shoes in her tiny closet and at least that many carefully stored in the basement. Remember, houses built in the 1950's rarely had the closet space we think is necessary today. Mother would not part with her shoes, insisting that they would come back into fashion. She wore a 6.5 AAAA and preferred heels, even around the house. This size sounds big to the two of us but would you believe that neither of us could wear any of Mother's shoes? They were too small! When she broke her foot in her late sixties, this was a devastating blow to her sense of style since she was forced to wear flats and shoes with support.
Mother worked in the city as a government employee and had access to retail therapy daily on her lunch hour. Monthly, she would treat herself to a purchase from one of her favorite shops. The owners and the salespeople knew Mother by name and often called her when an item "worthy" of her time had appeared in their shops. These same people knew both of us since the nuances of shopping were instilled at an early age. Yes, our dolls had fur coats from scraps that the furrier gave us while Mother was in his store.
Shoes were the one purchase that constituted a planned trip, complete with lunch or dinner. Our dear father was always welcomed on these excursions and was a beloved enabler from our earliest memories. Even in our youth, Sister and I had difficult feet to fit. Do you remember those metal "things" that measured the length and width of your foot? The salesperson always knew the exact size you needed and it fit like a glove. What happened to those devices and measuring your feet? Amazing how people just assume their size and buy shoes, even ones that fit poorly. For several of my elementary years, I wore the dreaded corrective shoe...think saddle shoes and oxfords. Only on special occasions could I wear a pretty shoe, which I called my patent "ledgers". Sister's feet did not suffer this indignity but were nonetheless difficult to fit.
Sister have amazed and amused our dear husbands by the sheer volume of our shoe collections. When my closet was re-modeled, I asked for shelving just for shoes, for at least seventy-five pairs. Sister's closet has her shoes in ninety-eight boxes by color and heel height. Now these are just our "closet" shoes. Shoes for walking, yard work, weather, marathons (Sister) and riding (my area) are not in this count. I wear a 5.5 B which is almost extinct except at ZAPPOS. Sister wears a 6 AAA and again, can you say: ZAPPOS? When did the shoe industry decide that there was little demand for these sizes? Our husbands are most supportive of their shoe aficionado wives, enablers just like our father. They encourage our passion but only if the shoe fits and is adorable. Life is too short to wear ugly shoes!
The only member of our combined families who gets more shoes than either of us is my horse, Honey.
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