What is in your car that can save your loose sole?
I’ve recently set a goal for myself: wear the things I already own. My closet (or rather, closets—plural) are at capacity, and the guilt has started creeping in. This is partly due to the sheer volume of stuff I own and partly because I made the mistake of watching a few fast fashion documentaries. It’s hard to enjoy retail therapy—which I really enjoy—when you’ve got the ghost of a sweatshop worker hovering over your shoulder, judging your every purchase.
So, in an effort to make peace with both my wardrobe and my conscience, I decided to start “shopping” in my own closet. If I hadn’t worn it in a year—or ten—it needed to go.
I put this noble experiment to the test one evening when we had plans to meet friends for dinner. Beforehand, we were going to The Mint art gallery to check out a new exhibit, and, more importantly, I wanted to get there early to visit the gift shop (it was right before Christmas, and nothing says thoughtful like a last-minute purchase from a museum store). I decided to wear a new dress but pair it with some old brown boots I rarely wore. They had heels, which was probably why they’d been collecting dust, but they matched, and in the name of sustainability, I was committed.
Before we left, Chad told me I looked fabulous, which is exactly what a good husband should say. Then, per our usual arrangement, I drove there so he could drive home—because, as any good husband should, he understands that I like to have a drink.
We pulled into the parking garage, and as I stepped out of the car, I heard something hit the ground. I took another step and immediately felt that something was wrong. A beat passed before I realized: the sole of my boot had come loose, held on only by the heel. I took another step, and the other boot did the same thing. Now both soles were flapping with each step like a duck. I tried to adjust my stride to keep them from catching, but it was useless. If I kept walking, I was either going to fall or become a one-woman slapstick routine in the middle of the Mint’s parking garage.
At this point, we were 35 minutes from home. My choices were limited. I scanned the car for options and found exactly one: a pair of socks in my yoga bag.
As I sat there in my dress and socks, my mind flashed to that viral Reese Witherspoon speech where she talks about how movies always have a woman looking at a man and saying, “What are we going to do?” and how no real woman actually says that. Well, Reese Witherspoon has clearly never stood in a parking garage, in a new dress, wearing running socks, with 15 minutes before dinner reservations. Because I turned to Chad and, without thinking, asked, “What are we going to do?”
Maybe I was being a weak woman, or maybe I just needed my husband (who, again, as any good husband should) to help me figure this out. Either way, there I was, sockfooted in a parking deck, regretting every decision that had led me to this moment.
Chad, ever the problem-solver, said, “We have to buy you new shoes.”
“No,” I protested. “I’m trying to wear what I already have!”
But even I had to admit this was an extenuating circumstance. He pulled up the nearest shoe stores on his phone, and we found one about two miles away. I climbed back into the car, in my socks, and drove. Chad texted our friends to let them know we’d be late, while I plotted how to run into a store in December without getting frostbite.
I pulled up to a Madewell store, threw the car into park, and swapped places with Chad so he could go find parking while I bolted inside. The saleswoman took one look at me—slightly manic, sockfooted in a fancy dress—and before she could ask questions, I cut her off:
“Give me anything in a size 10.”
We found one pair of boots in a 9.5. Good enough. I put them on, paid, and ran back out to the car wearing the new boots.
Twenty minutes later, we were back at the Mint, where I received many compliments on my new dress and my new shoes, neither of which anyone needed to know were acquired under duress.
The moral of the story? Just wear the new stuff. And also, keep duct tape in your car, which I bought the next day.
Side note: While at Lowe’s for duct tape, I also picked up super glue and reattached the soles of the boots. They’re now in a box for Goodwill because, let’s be honest, if I hadn’t fixed them, they’d probably just end up in a landfill. At least this way, they have a fighting chance at a second life. Hopefully in the hands (or on the feet) of someone with better luck than me.
Tell me what do you keep in your car for emergencies?
