June 22 4:00am

Some people notice architecture. Some people notice personality types and quirks. Me? I notice shoes. It’s honestly the second thing I always look at, second only to eyes. I feel one can tell a lot about a person based on their footwear. One’s daily aspirations, one’s daily habits, almost one’s hopes and dreams—depending on the shoe, of course. It leaves me with a strange sense of curiosity. Where these people are going. Who they were. Who they want to be. It’s probably the most superficial way to judge a person, but I believe clothes (and shoes) work as an extension of one’s being. Clunky, skinny, dark, light, jeweled, beaded, heeled, laced, slip-on, leather, rubber, canvas—they all convey a certain choice, a certain preference, a certain statement. The interesting thing is that in Europe, there are so many different kinds of shoes, and the majority I cannot recognize. My sense of judgment is momentarily suspended. And maybe that’s the best thing that could be happening to me, at this point.

Instead, I’m forced to look closer at three passing women, walking together, all carrying shopping bags. First, I realize they are wearing sandals all with a similar strap, and that strikes me as interesting. And I as I look closer at the women, I notice how similar two of their postures stand. I slowly realize those two women actually look exactly alike, and are most probably twins. The third woman clearly emerges as their mother, with a slightly older face, but remarkably similar attributes. When I understood their relationship (or pretended I did) a little better, my interest in their story peaked. Did they realize how similar they all looked? Did they know they were all wearing an extremely similar variation of the same shoe? Did they care? Or were they just so close that those things tend to happen incidentally? My mind drifted imagining their conversation. What they had been shopping for. Where they were headed next? Were any of them married?

Normally, these thoughts wouldn’t have been given a chance to grow simply because my initial judgment usually narrows the field of people I’ll allow myself to get to know. But without this built-in schema, I find I’m noticing a lot more about a lot more people.
My preoccupation with shoes may be a little ridiculous, although irrelevant most times. But I know things are slowly changing within me, and these are the silly ways that I can tell it’s happening. (404 words)