This column is about shoes. It is September, and September is THE month for new shoes. Be still my heart (and feet).
September always and will always make me think about back-to-school. I feel the year resets in September rather than January. Back to structure. Fresh pencils. Does anyone use pencils now? New clothes. A paper planner. New shoes. NEW SHOES. It almost made it worth going back to school so I could saunter around showing off my fresh shoes.
Back in the day (meaning any time before 2010), kids would wear whatever shoes were available until they were a loose collection of holes. It wasn’t illegal to ask for new shoes August 5th, but it may as well have been. New tennis shoes were a big part of the back-to-school shopping list. No tennis playing necessary. I could not love this tradition more.
I have a September birthday, and back-to-school and birthday gifts were often rolled into one joyous shopping excursion. First day of school outfit. Photo day outfit. Possibility of talking mom into a few extras. We purchased the next size of things I had outgrown. Outgrowing things is just not the same thrill now. Occasionally, shopping trips included my maternal grandmother, who allowed me the decadent luxury of wearing the new shoe purchase straight out of the store.
Now, collectively we wait for nearly nothing. It makes me kind of sad. The churn of fast fashion and faster trends makes it nearly impossible to delay gratification, but we have sacrificed the joy of anticipation. We no longer even need to leave the couch to purchase a brand new wardrobe. Look. Click. Ship. If in-person shopping had tapped into a primal hunting/ gathering instinct, online shopping has killed it.
In 1988, I was back-to-school shopping with my mom at Calhoun Square in Minneapolis. It was shopping paradise. Benetton. Hollywood High. Mainstreet Outfitters. And a shoe store called Josefs. They had beautiful shoes and accessories. Fancy things. Grown-up things. It was a cool and gritty energy there in the 80s. And I was merely window shopping until I found my dream shoes. Black suede loafers with green jewels at the toe.
Much to my surprise, my mom bought them for me. She recognized love at first sight. It was a very special “back-to-school” purchase. They were $76. In 1988. Think about that for a moment. In today’s dollars, that would be $215.29. Inarguably a luxury purchase for a high school junior no matter the year. To say the shoes felt magical is an understatement. I wore those with my black stirrup pants and Benetton sweater and felt like a legit celebrity. I even went so far as to always wear them on Fridays so my classmates would remember my fabulousness over the weekend. It was not until much later that I learned nobody was paying attention to me in high school because we were all so consumed paying attention to ourselves.
My youngest child is a high school senior this year. It’s the last classic “back-to-school” moment for our household. He doesn’t want shoes. He says he doesn’t care. His white tennis shoes are currently grey. I don’t love it. Plus, school starts early this year. It will be sandal season for a while. He will wear his cheap flip-flops until they fall off, I guess, and we will just get shoes as needed. Boring.
As for me, September 1st, I’m heading out for some new kicks. For myself. Might get myself some new pens too. Back-to-school shopping never goes out of style.
Jen Fortner is a freelance writer who enjoys asking friends and strangers far too many questions. She spends her spare time sitting in inclement weather watching youth sports, traveling, cooking, and searching for the very best baked goods. She lives in Shorewood with her husband, three children and the most spoiled dog.