While I don't want my daughter to believe she IS her clothing. I have to confess to a bizarre attachment to a pair of dancing shoes I no longer have.
While packing for my femimother weekend I felt an old familiar yearning for my black dancing shoes. I lost one of them on a trip home to see my parents probably three or four years ago. I had been wearing them since college and had never worn any other pair of shoes out dancing.
They were really high, black Sandy from Grease in the very last scene when she's turned bad-girl, dancing shoes. They provided me this sense of balance and confidence and laissez fair and sexy that I don't normally possess. I felt powerful and carefree in them and I really only ever wore them dancing.
I kept the one remaining shoe in my closet for years after the other was gone. I kept hoping, even praying, the other would magically turn up. I'm sure it's on the side of the road in New Mexico living out a very Jitterbug Perfume life (or was that Still Life with Woodpecker?)
Omigod (so, totally stole that from my friend Rebecca), I just did a search for Tom Robbins and apparently he has written a new book I had not heard about. Wild Ducks Flying Backward seems to be a collection of short stories and I just got about as aroused as if I had found my other shoe. I'm so buying that immediately!