I’m standing at the corner of 5th Avenue and 16th Street in a navy blue, silk, Betsey Johnson dress, bought for $40 at a sample sale, with floral Keds on my feet. Its 10 AM and I have to find appropriate shoes for my boss’s fancy Manhattan wedding by 4:00 this afternoon. By now my dress is wrinkled from sweat. I’ve been to 6 shoe stores. I’m upset and frustrated because I decided at the last minute against the black pumps I had picked out, deciding they were too heavy for the summery dress. This is a big night for me; I’ll see people I haven’t seen in years and make first impressions on major Broadway bigwigs. I want to look good and the salespeople of NYC seem to be against that happening. You see, I’m a shoe size 5 at the largest and before you say how cute that is, think about if you’ve ever actually seen them in a store, and if they had Dora the Explorer on them or light up bottoms.
The Huffington Post reported about the size 5 shoe phase out last year and it seems to be getting worse. Blogs such as Glamour.com had heated discussions, with my fellow small feet people expressing outrage! How could they do this to us? Do only size 6 and bigger matter? It’s not as if 5s don’t exist. They do, but they are either very high end and out of my price range or just plain ugly. Don’t get me wrong, I probably have over 50 pairs of shoes but it’s only because I’m afraid to get rid of any of them. I’ve tried everything to make a size 5 ½ or 6 fit, such as insoles or stuffing the toe, but it usually only results in me having bloody feet or tripping down the steps. Embarassing.
There are whole groups of people with whom I feel a connection with. Plus sized woman have a hard time finding cute and actually stylish clothes. Pretty bras are difficult to find for busty girls. Everywhere I look there’s fashion discrimination! For the wedding, I tried Nine West first because they have a million different affordable choices. Before I even look at the shelves, I ask which styles come in a 5. The first thing people do is look at my feet and say, “Well, a 6 is really small here. Why don’t we try it?” Inevitably, I will be talked into trying on dozens that will never fit me and I leave totally embarrassed. After Nine West, I tried Aldo (1 pair of flats,) Payless (1 row of all weather boots and sneakers-no Christian Siriano for me,) and finally Filene’s Basement. I settled on a pair of too high, too expensive, really uncomfortable silver heels. I never wore them again.
While shoes may not seem an important thing to stress over, when you’re 25 years old and trying to make an impression in the post-college world, everything feels important. Alexandra Robbins, who wrote Quarter-Life Crisis: The Unique Challenges of Life in Your Twenties, says, “The quest to define ourselves begins during childhood, but when twentysomethings enter the ‘real’ world, the process can seem to start all over again..." Am I fun and funky enough to be different and wear my Keds to the wedding? Am I a sophisticated and stylish New Yorker who wears a sensible heel with arch support? Or should I pick the highest heel I can find to make my legs look super long? Maybe I don’t know exactly who I am yet, but a choice in footwear doesn’t seem like too much to ask.
According to BBC News, the average woman’s shoe size was a 5 in 1951. For whatever reason, extra weight makes the feet wider, or we are wearing more sensible footwear, the average is now an 8. Hunting through vintage stores, like Tokio7 in the East Village, I can sometimes find 4 ½ sized gems. I used to be too embarrassed to talk to shop owners about my foot size, thinking that they will look at me with those big eyes and make me try on a 6. As I’ve gotten older, I’m starting to get more comfortable and outspoken. I have realized that if you become friendly with the owners, they will hold the small shoes for you, or give you a call when they come in. I’ve also started bragging to my size 7 friends that I’m usually incredibly jealous of, that my new Nike running shoes were $35 since they are for kids. Not that I’m not still disappointed when my friends get together for a Louboutin sample sale, and the one size 5 is gone in the first 5 minutes. I’ve actually waited outside of Marc Jacobs for 3 hours to be the first to snatch the 35s. I had to elbow and push a few tiny girls but I left with 3 pairs.
My goal as I enter my late twenties and early thirties is to except my small feet for what they are. I’m going to become one of those classically dressed woman, who own 3 pairs of shoes that look great with everything. I’m going to laugh with people when I trip and they say, “Your feet are too small to hold you up.” Maybe I’ll become a handbag girl. Have fun at the 10022, so big it needs its own zip code, shoe floor at Saks. I’ll be downstairs checking out the new “It” bag. Because with bags, one size fits all and in fashion, that’s a beautiful thing.
