Shoes for old feet—a bad poem

It’s hard to find good shoes for old feet. A bad poem about a familiar problem for old women and men.

Old woman visits the podiatrist

Had a lump on the arch
of my faithful right foot
and occasional pain.
Remembered a happy podiatrist
and went back again.
Got a frowny one now
sick and tired of her job
sick and tired of her clients
and itching for home and a gin.

"Incipient geriatric arthritis.
Go shop for new shoes
with a SHANK.
See, this is a SHANK
a metal support
to prop up your second-rate foot.
No reason, no cure:
you were born with a foot
like a plank."

Well I shopped and I shopped
and I bought not a thing
though the choice was amazing
the colours were popping
the soles were all bouncy
but never a shank or a prop
in sight and anyway  
who wants to tie up their laces
twenty-five times a day?

This instant doggerel may remind you of your own search for the perfect shoe. For years I’ve relished the fashion and technology that lets us wear flat shoes with comfort and flair. My favourites are as light as a feather, they’re CC resorts Danielle, made of stretchy woven elastic in various colours, most of which I have bought over the years. I’ve worn them to picnics, concerts, weddings, and supermarkets. But apparently their day is done.

You don’t want to know all this. Short story short, I bought an elastic-and-plastic arch support that wraps around my foot and works for now. I’m guessing that the “incipient geriatric arthritis” will give me a few months break, and some glorious old-woman shoe will appear magically in a shop window one day.

Heaven knows, in other ways we old men and women are spoiled for choice when we shop for shoes. I’d just like some shoes that:

• feel divine
• support my perfectly nice arches that have done me proud for almost 82 years
• don’t require me to bend over and tie and untie long shoe laces (thought I was done with that)
• don’t get sloppy too soon
• don’t cost the earth
• look cool and fun and colourful
• are in local shops when I decide to look for them.

Is that too much to ask? Pleeeease! I hear a thousand sore-footed old men and old women cry.

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