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Every. Single. Time.
Every single time I need new trompin-around shoes, it goes something like this:
I go to department stores.
I go to shoe stores.
I go to outdoor stores.
I go to the outlet center.
And every store: has never heard of the concept that women might enjoy outdoor activities other than jogging, tennis, and looking cute on the beach; has heard of that concept, but only for ten zillion dollars; and/or has nothing in mens that fits both my price range and my feet.
And so I end up finding something I can live with for $35 in the mens section at Wal-Mart.
Dammit.
Anyway, Mom at least will be pleased to hear that I finally got rid of my old black high-tops with the completely split soles - I donated them to Shoes on the Mall via a guy at work.
That's one thing off my to-buy-before-Iceland list!
I go to department stores.
I go to shoe stores.
I go to outdoor stores.
I go to the outlet center.
And every store: has never heard of the concept that women might enjoy outdoor activities other than jogging, tennis, and looking cute on the beach; has heard of that concept, but only for ten zillion dollars; and/or has nothing in mens that fits both my price range and my feet.
And so I end up finding something I can live with for $35 in the mens section at Wal-Mart.
Dammit.
Anyway, Mom at least will be pleased to hear that I finally got rid of my old black high-tops with the completely split soles - I donated them to Shoes on the Mall via a guy at work.
That's one thing off my to-buy-before-Iceland list!