Im-male-da

It's always bugged me that Imelda Marcos became so well known for her epic shoe collection that she can still be used as a punchline to this day, at least for people over forty. We don't even remember that her husband, Ferdinand, was dictator of the Philippines, or that her shore collection was not the plaything of a deranged rich woman, but a symbol of excess by exploitive leaders. And it's an affront to feminism of Kournikovian proportions that we remember Imelda for her stereotypical excess, while Corizon Aquino, the woman who led the popular uprising that deposed the Marcoses and brought democracy to the Philippines, is remembered only by historians.

But the reason I'm fixated on shoes today is that a rather unstereotypical thing happened to me: I found a pair of shoes I forgot I had at the bottom of the closet. Like most men, I don't own a lot of shoes. I can't speak for all men, but for me is not that I hate shoes, but I hate buying shoes. Aside from sizing problems, there's the style problem.  Most men's clothing fits into one of three categories:

• Formal, good-looking, uncomfortable
• Casual, comfortable, boring
• Sporty, very comfortable, silly

Or to put out another way, you have to look like your boss, your father, or your son. It's especially bad in shoes, where there's little choice between work and sports shoes.

But these shoes seemed to drop somewhere between those second and third groups. Clean, black canvas, they don't look childish or formal. So I wore them today. They were nice and comfortable to walk in. Though the thick canvas does make them a little warm. I feel like I look good, though my get are sweating a bit. But I do have thick socks. Okay, now the sweat is making my feet squeak as I walk. So maybe they aren't suited to summer. The shallow tread means I can't use them in winter, so I'll have to wait 'til fall to wear them. I'll just throw them in the closet for now; I'm sure I'll remember to get them out again in a few months.