The letters of our thoughts are the ideas present in our mind before they come to realization . . . Thoughts that are, yet not felt . . . The words of the subconscious . . . of the soul . . .


Sunday, October 28, 2007

Brown Shoes

Taken in Sestokai, Lithuania -Pesach 5766

Before I left Los Angeles, I ordered a pair of shoes from (hat tip: Dansdeals).
With only a dozen or so minutes remaining until Shabbos, I sent the order off in a rush and, placing my towel over my shoulder, ran off to the mikva.

The next Wednesday, a few short hours before my flight to New York, my shoes arrived in the mail.

11.5 Men's Skechers Scanner - Examiner shoes.

Ripping open the box I noticed something had gone awry -they were brushed brown leather, not polished black.
Though I had the option to return the shoes, my older pair (Kennith Cole Unlisted -Rock Clubs) were in no shape for further use -not after a heavy beating during my summer in Italy (Note to self: Dress shoes are not made for biking, kickball, touring Rome, and running on the beach) and working in the winery, and I, with my impending flight, needed something for my feet.

Let us take a step back for the moment.

Clothes define a person . . . How we dress is how we present our un-molded essence to the world. Some people dress to stand out, others to conform. I fall into the later, but wish to believe that I am able to express myself within the confines of the world I choose (In truth, true expression can only be brought out via channeling it through limitation . . . but that's a topic for a different post -or blog).

Brown shoes are a statement. Don't ask me why -they don't seem, to me at least, as radical as gray hats, tweed jackets, or the revival of the Poulaine (those pointy Jester shoes -which is the direction that current men's shoes seem to be heading) - but brown shoes make a statement none the less . . . and I have no desire to make any statements.

I left the shoes in the box, figuring that before I left I would come upon a viable answer to my conundrum.

Time passed and the hour of departure drew nearer . . . the brown shoes remained in their box.

On the way towards the door, I glanced at the box once more. Torn between the frugality of time, and a Chassidic fashion sense, I went for the former (Every chossid is, after all, also a Jew). Donning my brown leather shoes, I picked up my bag and got into the car.

People in Crownheights have the odd habit of making a 'pss' sound in sign of mock impression. My shoes seemed to bring friendly pss's from all corners of 770 . . .

"Mordy how are you? Look who got brown shoes. Psss!"
"I ordered them by mistake."
"Right, you accidentally ordered the stylish ones -psss. Are you looking for a shotgun or something?"

I ignored the sounds and friendly chides . . . and you know something?

I now think that I happen to like my brown shoes.


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Cheerio said...

this one just made me smile.
enjoy them brown shoes!

Perez said...

Yes, This one was a good little laugh, but a laugh all the same.

And clothes do make a statement even if you do not mean to.

Take care-perez

Mottel said...

Glad it was enjoyed . . .

Anonymous said...

Nice shoes

Hirshel Tzig - הירשל ציג said...

not Chassidish.

Mottel said...

The shoes, the post, the hanacha? All of them?

Unknown said...

Image looks funny....i guess they have made color correction in the photo, thats why it looks brown....But i love my brown nike shoes and its my favorite....

Mottel said...

Yes, I played around with the color on the image . . .
I don't wear brown for brown, I don't care for the color per se, but the shoes are still conservative, comfortable, and decent quality.