I usually have only one pair of shoes in favor at a time, changing only with the seasons -- and as far as shoes are concerned, there are two seasons: sandal season and not sandal season. This is contrary to recommended practice for good foot health, but I've always been contrary to recommended practice for good health -- though I did quit smoking a year ago -- I don't floss, and I don't eat enough fruits or vegetables, I don't drink enough water or get enough exercise...
Sandal season generally runs from April to November. For many years, I favored plain flip-flops with thick soles, but I have graduated and the sandals, most recently, have almost always been Birkenstocks -- a new pair every few years -- and, yes, I do wear them with socks. In April and May, October and November, mornings in the upper-midwest can be chilly, but it warms up quite substantially during the day and toes can be fully exposed without danger.
I have a new favorite not sandal season shoe -- a waterproof, slip-on Bass -- which I happened upon last fall totally under the gun when I flew east and found that I didn't bring appropriate footwear for the weather. My friend took me to a Bass shoe outlet and I bought two pair, but the slip-ons have been favored from the first. I've never had a shoe so comfortable from the start.
There are others on the closet floor -- tennies, some mules, a pair of out-of-style heels and some strappy, dressy sandals -- special occasion shoes that spend most of their time collecting dust. I can't just grab them and go, then, because they require dust removal (it can become quite substantial between special occasions) and verification that no spiders have taken up residence in the toes. I should keep them in boxes, but I don't.
Among my favorite shoes of all time were my "ketchup-and-mustard" bowling-style shoes -- yellow and red, but not in a Ronald McDonald way -- that I wore to complete shreds in high school; the four-inch, spiky black heels that I broke while dancing to "That Old Time Rock & Roll" -- back in the days when I wore heels and danced. I do still dance, but privately and not in heels.
I always thought it a very cruel trick of the universe that my mother, a confirmed lover of shoes in the one-of-every-color camp, has feet so much smaller and narrower than any of her four daughters and most of her granddaughters, too. The shoe gene seems to have skipped a generation in our family, though, and the one granddaughter most apt to fit the stylish grandmother hand-me-downs is also a shoe-lover, and happens to be mine.
Writing prompt at Sunday Scribblings.
Further observations made whilst posting... Perhaps the measure of a shoe-lover is not judged only by quantity of actual shoes. Perhaps a shoe-lover could be someone who actually writes about and posts pictures of shoes -- on a knitting blog -- even before finding a writing prompt... could maybe cut some slack if it was a shoe blog, or they were knitted shoes... (who in their right mind classifies tennies as "special occasion shoes"?) maybe I am in denial about being a shoe freak.