h1

shoes.

January 9, 2010

Oh dear lord. I read this article about how women are more likely to remember the first pair of shoes they buy with their own money than the boy who was their first kiss. Terrible. And depressing. But really, are you kidding me? I love shoes. But I don’t remember the first pair of shoes I bought. I probably couldn’t even tell you all the shoes I currently own. I, for one, do remember my first kiss. If you don’t, but you remember your first pair of shoes, I don’t think we can be friends.

The statistic that threw me off was the one about regretting having to throw out a pair of shoes versus dumping a boyfriend. I don’t think that should be a surprise. Most of the time when you dump a boyfriend, it’s because it’s not working out and you think you’ll be better on your own. Sure, there will be a sad period, but actual regret several years later? I don’t think so. Maybe if you’re the one being dumped. And, the expectations of a pair of shoes compared to a boyfriend is almost nothing. The shoes will never do anything to make you dislike them. They can’t be mean to you, forget your birthday, be lazy, argue with you, or any number of things that a boyfriend can do.

And then it got me thinking. Does this reflect more on females’ relationships with their material things or their actual relationships. Maybe now, when sex and even relationships increasingly feel like commodities, girls aren’t seeing boyfriends as something significantly different from a new dress. Ouch. And if girls are supposedly more attached to their shoes than past lovers, what about boys? Is there anything they remember better than past girlfriends?

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3 comments

  1. I bet the so-called survey was conducted in some over-priced shoe store such as “The Spiritual Heeler”, rather than in a less-biased setting such as inside a red-cross bloodmobile.


  2. I heard this on Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me and I just thought of women like the women of Sex and the City. I don’t consider most normal women to be like that.

    Interestingly enough, I wonder how many men remember their first kiss. I remember mine – even the exact location.


  3. I don’t know where you’re getting your shoes from, but mine forgets my Birthday all the time…



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