Try finding a pair in a size 5. Make that 5 wide. As I got older, my small foot got wider. Bought quite a few pair of Mephistos sandals because I could adjust the strap. But still not that comfortable after a few hours on my feet. There’s a shoe store in Manhattan that only sells shoes in small sizes. But, they don’t carry wide sizes. I would love to find a pair of sexy shoes that fit.

P.S. I am with Sheila - what was Steve Martin’s joke about cruel shoes? Anyone remember?

I used to have a great pair of gold heels. Then I developed arthritis in one big toe. That took care of my CFM shoes. Now I wear shoes that look more like the Pope’s. Red, flat, sparkly…you know.

Ahh…The Cruel Shoes, that was a hilarious short story! No, new shoes don’t change my life much more that a new shade of lipstick makes my problems go away, but a great pedicure can work wonders on the spirit :)

Changing my shoes doesn’t change my life, but the height of my shoes have changed over the years, mostly because of weight gain. Now lately because of pain, from a medical condition. So as my life changes I change my shoes.

The day I turned 66 I cleaned out my closet and gave away two dozen beautiful lightly worn heels of many colors and three high heeled boots in white, black and red. Dress for Success said they were thrilled to get size 8 narrow. The reason was mobility. It was slow down or wear flat shoes. One of the things that goes as you get older is balance and reflexes. You don’t catch yourself anymore when you stumble. So being unwilling to slow down I dropped down to flats. It works. Not quite so pretty but a lot more confortable. I still miss those shoes.

The opposite is true for me. In my 20s I bought shoes every weekend. I lived for the scent of new leather shoes. Today, I have a couple pair of Sketchers. They’re comfortable and economical. My shoes changed as my life and values changed.

I have been hopelessly addicted to beautiful shoes my entire life. The nice thing about it is that when you have so many, you never wear any of them out. I treat all of them very well, cuddling each shoe in its own little sock-like case and then delicately wrapped in tissue paper and stored in their original boxes. Boots get the same treatment with boot trees to keep them alert. I have 3 closets full of shoes. Yes, they do change my life. My dancing shoes make me feel sexy. So do my evening shoes for gala’s or cocktail parties. This will sound scandalous, my shoes number in the high triple digits. But I love them all the same. We all need a bunch of pairs of ‘Joanies’ to go out on the town. When I have them on I feel sassy. The stuffy formal shoes generally hurt my feet and are reserved for seated events only. Then there are the sports shoes that all have a specialty. It is very easy for me to find an excuse to always buy another pair of shoes. My shoes closets are the essence of being prepared for every occasion. Being anal retentive, they are all organized by style, function, and color of leather and usually have a purse hanging around somewhere to be their date. They haven’t changed my life, but they provide me the opportunity to choose, and I like that.

I use to wear high heels they made me feel and look beautiful. I felt like I was walking on clouds. Now with my disability I wear these wonderful Black boots that goes up just to the knee. They are sexy and still shape my legs. When I am feeling awful I wear my off white tennis shoes, So I do not think the shoes change my life. I think I change my life by which shoes I wear. I still have a pair of heels but they are just to remember what was.

I guess I’m at the bottom of the shoe food chain—I wear Crocs, constantly. Flip-flops, mostly. If the temperature drops a bit, it’s the clogs. I live in central Texas, and it’s mostly warm, so I can’t stand to have enclosed feet. In fact, my parameter of when (if) winter starts is when I have to put on socks. I used to be a cute-shoe freak, scouring sale racks and buying a couple pairs every few months. But most of them never fit all that well. Then I discovered Mephistos, which completely changed my life because they felt fabulous on my feet and I could walk forever in absolute comfort. But the Crocs are so lightweight I’m in them most of the time. I don’t care if they’re goofy and clunky. I’m fortunate in that all my life I’ve never had to dress up to go to work, being a freelance artist/designer. The few times I’ve worn high heels, I was in agony, which kinda trumps the feeling-sexy thang. I honestly don’t understand how women can wear them all day. However, the most fabulous shoes I’ve ever had were a pair of lipstick-red ankle-strapped high-heeled platforms bought at the landmark Biba shop in London in the Sixties, where I was living and going to art school. I managed to wear them as much as I could stand, until the day I tripped and fell into a bus when I had them on. The bus didn’t hit ME, I hit the bus. This is not to say I don’t still succumb to fabulousness. I have a few pair of John Fluevogs, which are weird and wonderful and occasionally walk out of my house, with me in tow.