I am seconds away from tossing my favorite pair of shoes into the garbage — a pair of boy’s Simples, size 6. In the beginning they were a light shade of natural tan with clean white laces, but now the suede is stiff and murky with wear. The padding around the ankles is torn with stray foam peeking through, the leather around the foot-bed has holes that let in the rain, and the pink rubber soles are worn down to their white underbellies. This day has been a long time coming.
Five or six years ago I picked up these shoes at a Salvation Army in Florida. They were brand new and gleaming among the other slightly worn dress shoes. Clearly some pubescent boy’s feet had outgrown his new shoes before he even had the chance to wear them. His loss. My super fantastic find. Wearing a size six in boys has certainly led me to some great shoe finds, but nothing as good as these Simple shoes.
What makes me saddest about throwing them away, though, — and trust me they do need to be tossed — is that I will probably never own another pair of Simple shoes like these again. They are leather, suede to be exact, and I do not buy brand new leather. Sure, I still wear my leather pair of ox blood red Mary Jane Doc Martens that I bought long before I became a vegetarian. (Those little suckers have held their own.) And I have no qualms with picking up a pair of leather shoes that have been abandoned at the Salvation Army. I won’t, though, buy new shoes that are leather, or suede, and Simple doesn’t make this style of shoe in vege-friendly materials.
Goodbye Simple shoes. I am sad to see you go.
