Let me be clear: I HATE white shoes. Hate them, hate them, hate them. I don’t care if they’re pumps, sandals or peep toes. They’re gross and I wouldn’t even let Carrie Bradshaw on Sex & The City convince me otherwise when she wore white Christian Louboutin pumps in Paris.
They look clunky and remind me of old church ladies working as ushers on third Sunday. I like them about as much as I would like my teeth to be pulled out with pliers. I’d love to go to all of the factories making white shoes and hit each pair with a bat into the middle of the ocean. But here’s the thing: when I see another woman wearing white shoes, I mind my own business.
I don’t assume her white shoes speak volumes about her values or integrity. I don’t mock her to other people behind her back. I don’t think it is my duty to confront her about her shoe choices and I most certainly do not go around asking others to NOT associate with her.
I don’t like white shoes, so I don’t wear them. Other people have a right to put whatever they want on their feet. Can you imagine if we lived in a world where people thought they had the right to tell people not to wear white shoes? A person could be walking down the street and someone could come out of nowhere and start harassing them about their sandals. What if I wanted to draw up legislation that demanded no one wear white shoes? What if I actually went around trying to get signatures to halt the import of the things? I mean, just think if someone attacked and robbed a person who was wearing white shoes and then the police turned around and asked the victim, “Well, why were you wearing white shoes in the first place?”
It sounds absolutely preposterous, I know. It’s a silly thing to consider, even laughable. You see, my dislike for white shoes doesn’t have to affect others in a negative way. There’s more than enough room on this planet for people who both like and dislike white shoes. It doesn’t mean I’m not going to occasionally come into contact with people who wear them or that I have to be nasty to them when I do. Whatever traumatic experience I had with white shoes in the past that brought about my dislike for them in the first place, doesn’t give me a pass to be an asshole today to someone wearing white shoes.
But that’s the problem with hating something – we waste time and energy honing in on the one thing we despise, rather than remembering all of the other good things out there.