Shout-Out: Comfort One Shoes

I gotta give it up for Comfort One Shoes. I've shopped there several times, and have almost always come away successful.

Their shoes are on the pricey end, but they are made—as their name implies—for comfort. As you can imagine, with all the walking I do, I am very very very interested (obsessed?) about shoes. How they fit, how they feel, and most of all, how much walking can I do in them before my feet start hurting? Also, I want them to look cute, if possible.

I recently bought two pairs of footwear: knee-high boots and a pair of black flats. Last night I bought a pair of knee-high boots and a pair of black flats. I'm ashamed to say that the boots are the third pair I bought this winter, in search of something that would not tear up my feet and make them hurt. The flats are just the second. I already said I was ashamed, what do you want from me?? And once I find a pair that fit/wear well, I keep them forever. My previous pair of flats lasted me for two years, and I wore them almost every day. Boots were the same.

Anyway, I digress. I walked into Comfort One and told the salesperson exactly what I was looking for in a boot: I walk 3 miles a day at a minimum; I need them knee-high; they can't be lined (I work up too much heat while walking and then get overheated if they're lined); they need to have structure; they need a soft footbed (pounding the pavement); they need to be soft; they need to be black; they need to be lightweight; they need to have traction on the bottom; they need to be not-old-lady. Bless her, she didn't run away, but instead went into the back and brought out a bunch of boots. After an hour, I settled on the pair that would be mine. Then I asked her if she had the strength to help me find a pair of flats.  I was delighted when she said enthusiastically, "yes!"

When we parted two hours after we first met, it was with tenderness: me with my two pairs of footwear, she with her commission and a job well done. It took almost two hours, yes. But these are my feet. I took the short cuts (online shopping for the flats, fast purchase before seeing "The Muppet Movie" [which was awesome!]), and it didn't work. I need to take care of my feet because without them, I can go nowhere. And neither can you, so mark ye well these words…

My main point (believe it or not) is this: if you are interested in keeping your feet healthy and you want footwear that looks slightly cute, too, try Comfort One Shoes. If you're in DC, check out the 1630 Connecticut Ave., NW location. Ask for Ruth.

Sandals!

From an early age, I've had a thing for shoes. It started—where so many obsessions do—in church. And when I write "church," I mean the Catholic mass, which was the tradition I grew up with. For me, church was long, church was pretty boring (though I did like the ringing of the bells at the consecration), and, when everyone went up for communion, my knees ached from kneeling so long—as did my arms: since they were too short to rest on the back of the bench, I was reaching up.

One fine communion time, I glanced over at all the adults waiting in the communion line. And I noticed that if I tilted my head just so under my arms, I would appear to be praying. In reality, I was taking advantage of the perfect view of all those shoes traipsing up and back. I was fascinated.

My favorite shoes were SANDALS. They were the best. They were the most beautiful, the most graceful, and the most interesting. My birthday is in the summer, and I would always ask for sandals as my birthday present.

"You know, those are pretty hard to run in," my mom would say, every year.

"No they're not," I would answer quickly, confidently.

She was right. They were. Sandals tended to slip on grass. Sandals tended to be tripped over when running on pavement. Sandals didn't tend to hold feet securely for quick course corrections. To this day, if I look closely at my knees, I can see lots of little scars from all my spills over the years, courtesy of my sandals. I also wonder if I wouldn't be a faster runner today if I had been able to get any speed in my sandals.

And yet, there was no happier girl in all the land if I got sandals for my birthday. Out of all my faithful servants, there are two pairs I especially remember.

The first were my bicentennial summer sandals. They had tons of straps in red, white, and blue, with a cork floor. I felt completely glamorous in them. One day, I had a sharp pain in my foot. I told my mom and dad and they looked at my foot, finding nothing. I stood up and felt it again. They told me to take off my sandal and they examined it, finding nothing. I put the sandal back on and felt it again. "Well, you must have outgrown them," my dad said, tossing them in the trash. I was devastated! My beautiful sandals, tossed in the dustbin of history! I cried. Going back to my closed-toe shoes was like a penance. Oh, the humanity!

The second pair I especially remember were as comfortable as a sneaker and just as good for running. I could do anything in those sandals, and hardly fell down at all. The following summer, I remember how excited I was to put them on again—only to find I had outgrown them.

I ask you, has any child ever faced such deprivation? Well, I didn't think so.

Nowadays, I still love shoes and looooove looking at them. With the amount of walking I do, I am more eagle-eyed (read: completely obsessed) for shoes I can wear for long distances in comfort. But sandals will always have a special place in my heart (and my closet).

Please note: and when I say sandals, I MEAN SANDALS. I do NOT mean flip-flops, which are an abomination to footwear everywhere.