It’s not a big deal, but I haven’t bought myself a new pair of shoes in almost a year. It’s not that I need another pair, because I don’t (and need is a strong word), but I should buy one for variation’s sake. It’s not like I have to wear something new everyday. Believe me, I don’t. Honestly, I can wear (and have worn) the same 3 outfits for a month or even a whole season (don’t come my summer wardrobe). Don’t even get me started on shoes.
I don’t know how to go shoe shopping. Obviously I know how to swipe my debit card, but what I mean is that my process actually more complicated than it should be, at least compared to other people’s. It’s weird. I don’t care to follow trends, but even if I did, I would have to ask the salesperson or my little sister to pick out a pair for me, the mere thought of which makes me feel like the “cool dad” who tries and fails to be hip in the midst of an embarrassing quarter-life crisis. The times I have succumbed to the peer pressure of having the latest, greatest footwear have been unfulfilling, as trends are fleeting. Being perfectly honest, something in my soul does not sit well when my style, or anything else, is prescribed.
Despite the urge I have to be unconventional, there is always the underlying apprehension of buying “bobos”. For those of you who are fortunate enough to have survived childhood without being bullied about your generic gear, the good girls of Urban Dictionary were generous enough to fill you in:
Generic, no-name shoes or even worse shoes with corny names (i.e. pro-wings, avia, sike (just glue it), four-stripe adidas, ragamuffinpinwheelsdeluxe. . .).
Bobos, they make your feet feel fine, Bobos, they cost a dollar ninety-nine. . .
For the record, this is the first September that I am not scrambling to find new school clothes, because this the first September in nearly 20 years that I am not enrolled in some type of educational institution. Although the “dress to impress” compulsion I had dissipated in my college years, I would still try to buy something, just for the ritual of it all. Fortunately, I have no reason this year to subject myself to the painstaking process of picking an appropriate pair of pumps.