Oh, Hello Old Friends

In a few weeks, I am performing the ceremony of some dear friends, and everyone in the wedding party is supposed to wear a pair of Converse. The timing of this is perfect, since I've been kicking it in the 90s vibe since the Soundgarden concert a few weeks ago (who am I kidding--I am always in a 90s vibe.) My bro used to be the connoisseur of Converse High Tops, having over 20 pairs at one point in high school. I wasn't that hardqore--I only had about 4 or 5 pairs. But there was one special pair. One near and dear to my heart. One pair that I probably literally wore every single day for years. One pair that got huge holes in the toes of both shoes (something that still happens to my shoes today--I must have knives as big toes) and that lost the outer fabric overlay, so by the end of their life, they were just gross grey things. A pair that  ripped all along the sides so that my feet were almost exposed at all times. Trusty shoes that I wore to Lollapalooza 94 and that I never wanted to wash although they got really grimey that day (I distinctly remember peeing on the shoelaces accidently behind a dumpster on the drive back from New Orleans). 

So when I was browsing the shoes online, and I saw the low-top version of them, I had a physical gut reaction. It was like seeing an old old beloved friend. I literally teared up.  It was an awesome discovery.  Those of you who knew me in high school and that read this blog (Mom, of course, and Melissa, Jill, Sarah, Jeremy, Amanda, Jennifer, Ian, Laura, Ashley, and anyone else I might be missing) will most likely recognize them (though probably not Carrie or Erin, since I didn't wear these shoes to church...I don't think. Ok, I might have.):

When I first sent my brother the listing, his response was, "Oh yeah. I certainly know those shoes."

They arrived today--perfect timing, since I need a bit of a pick-me up. It feels good to be reunited.

Yeah, so they are a little too big, but who cares. They were on sale, too--added bonus. It's too bad they don't have the high top version, but I think it is a good metaphor--I am essentially the same girl I was in high school, with the same passions and interests, but am a wiser woman now, with so much life and experience under my belt. Similar, but different.

Now all I have to do is find some red shoelaces...