"The true artist has the planet for his pedestal;
the adventurer, after years of strife, has nothing broader than his shoes."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
These adorable little Buster Brown, patton yellow and navy shoes were at an estate sale I accidentally found this past Sunday. My daughter and her friend stumbled upon the signage upon returning from church on Sunday when the pull of a sale got in front of our need to eat. FYI: attending estate sales can be beneficial to weight loss or at minimum delay.
We eventually found the sale and drove up to a quaint little 1500 square foot rancher styled brick home. I would guess around 50+/- years. Upon entry, the immediate impression of the home was one of "feminine". All lighting was filled with gold leaf, prisms and glass beaded chain...the carpet was pink shag...the dishes were floral chintz...and the woman of the house was a size 4. I was under a visual assumption that no man could possibly live here...or ever has. If so, his space for stuff must have been in his car. The somewhat modest four bedroom home had the use of one bedroom for the intended purpose. In it was a giant canopy bed draped with mucho lace and white trim. But, the remaining three bedrooms were used as closets for approximately 1500 pairs of shoes (numbered determined by the company organizing the sale)...all in the original boxes... rack after rack, after rack, after rack, after rack of clothes ... plastic bins flooding over with purses and belts...and scads of numerous piles of accessories and costume jewelry stacked everywhere. It was like walking into the yard sale of Amelda Markos...followed by the final closeouts of Feiline's Basement nationwide...and the looming presence of the remains of someone who could have benefited from a "I'm A Binge Shopper and I need help" twelve step program. The magnitude of the number of clothing items was astounding.
And to compound this visual over stimulation....there was one shelf in the closet of bedroom two that held six pairs of children's shoes. Hmmmm? I wonder who once stepped through life in these little shoes. The pair that spoke to me was the patton bee-bops above. I have a sneaky hunch the owner of the home purchased them. I guess they were about 45 years old, clearly worn, and obviously treasured. These shoes had style in their day...and oddly enough, that style was still radiating. So cute....so adult, yet so small....and one of maybe 10 things that could be defined as being over 10 years old in the whole house.
What made them special? Why did she keep them? What little adventurer had experienced strife in these shoes? I just wonder....