A Tribute to my Chucks

I bought my first pair of Chuck Taylors at the end of my freshman year of high school. If you know me well, I'm sure you've seen them at least once. They are a very faded magenta with many tears and flaws but a lot of memories. Even though at the time I didn't realize what I was doing was "retail therapy," I bought the shoes just a few days after my great-grandmother Eulah passed away. In retrospect, that was the first thing the shoes did for me; they comforted me in a time of mourning. Throughout high school the shoes went everywhere with me; Honor Band, show practices, band camp, and eventually college visits. I wore them when I decorated the high school gym for prom, and there is still paint on the top from a busted a tub of paint. I wore the shoes at freshman orientation at Ohio State, and of course I've worn them many times as an official student. They have traveled with me to New York City, Washington, D.C., Chicago, and Toronto, ON, and countless other cities. They have even accompanied me to a Cavs game. The shoes also have been with me to every job I've ever had and have remnants of beer stains (Riverside Golf Club) and new coffee stains from Oxley's.

This summer my pink Chuck Taylors and I will make even more memories together in various countries in Europe. I like to fantasize about what food might be spilled on them or exotic foreign people who might step on them (follow this blog for pictures this summer!). Something else I like to ponder about is how much I have grown in these shoes; not physically, but emotionally. I've won, I've lost, been accepted and rejected. I've traveled and I've learned. I bought them as a 15 year old girl with crazy ambitions and I've grown into a 21 year old (woman?) with even crazier ones. So here's to you, shoes. They might not have caused me to grow emotionally, but they were there, protecting my feet from frivolous, exploding tubs of paint the whole way.