Monday, November 22, 2010

tortured by shoe alley

I have big feet.

There, I said it. I have tried denying it or hiding it my entire life, but now I am owning up to it and even sharing it with you. I have big feet. I have always had trouble buying shoes. When I see a pair I like, I go find it in my size and it either doesn't exist or it looks more like a boat than a shoe. Because of this, I have squeezed my toes into uncomfortable little contraptions on more occasions than I care to admit. It's embarrassing. It's sad. I don't really like to talk about it.

Why am I talking about, then??

Yesterday, we went to a little place here in Naples they like to call "Shoe Alley." It is a large outdoor market where you can buy anything from a milk frothing device to a shoe.

I don't know where the vendors get their products, but somehow they are able to slash the prices and sell things far under the average retail price.

I was promised they had big shoe sizes. I was ready to find me some boots so I can fit in here in Europe. Before we left the house, though, I made a promise to myself not to squeeze into something uncomfortable, because these boots would have to carry me around the streets of Europe where we tend to do a ton of walking.

I saw many, many cute shoes and boots and dreamed that I was a fashionista who knew how to wear them. I was having visions of myself in skinny jeans or leggings with boots up to my knees.

Then I tried on a pair.....

It turns out there is no translation for my shoe size in Italian.

Some things are just not meant to be.

The end.


  1. Takes ker
    of yer feets and yer feets atakes ker of you. Get a cobbler to make you a couple pair. Say hey to Pinnocio. Love Dad

  2. okay but heres the thing i wear a size 6.5 american and i saw lots of shoes i want , so don't forget how to get there...i love Tracy :)))))