Red Shoes

The other day at work, while I was in a patient’s room, I caught part of an episode of “The View.” Two of the four women hosting the show had amazing, red, stiletto-heeled sandals. The strappy kind. Very pretty. Not very practical, from a “shoes are for keeping feet warm and dry and for walking miles in” standpoint, but that’s ok with me. Most of my shoes, save the ones I nurse in, are not very practical either. What really struck me, though, was that one woman was wearing a purple dress, and the other was wearing a green and white one.

My mother was a fashion buyer while I was growing-up. At one time, she even owned a little boutique downtown that offered cutting edge fashions, bought in places like Chicago and New York. This was before designers had their own shops anywhere but places like Rodeo Drive, so I have always felt that I have been bred with the blessing of a certain amount of fashion flair. Still, red shoes are daring to me. If I were to wear them, it would be with a matching red dress, and probably only for evening. Or, perhaps, at my most wild of times, I could put them with gray or black, or hide them under jeans, as long as I had some sort of red shirt or scarf to tie the outfit together. I know that’s probably stuffy, or old-fashioned, or rigid of me, but I have to admit that I have certain things, most of which are as unremarkable as color coordination, that I “wouldn’t dare do.” Could this be distancing me from my joy?

These girls did not have my same sense of fashion, which I’ve now identified as a symptom of my timidity and attachment to rules. They, in fact, wore no trace of red, anywhere… except on their feet. And they looked amazing!

Something about that burst of bright, or the irreverence of failing to color coordinate, or the way they reminded me of Dorothy’s ruby red slippers’ magical quality, made me realize that I might just be missing the point of dressing.  I wonder if I make myself wear something, everyday, that feels just a little irreverent, or magical, or bright like the sun winking, if I would feel just a little more powerful, just a little better equipped, just a little shinier.

I haven’t quite decided what that special something will be for my practical nursing days spent dressed in scrubs, but tomorrow, I’m going to find some strappy, skinny-heeled, fabulous red sandals, and I’m going to wear them with everything else I own.

The Living In Joy Challenge: Each day for a week, find something you would normally “never do,”: wear a headband, go out without make-up, pin a rhinestone brooch to your jean jacket, use your good crystal wine glasses for water or milk, park in the farthest parking spot, stop to walk in the park on your way home, express your feelings, take a risk, and do it. And please do share how you feel about it. I can’t wait to hear from you.J