I have a deep and enduring love for shoes. Over the years, I’ve collected pairs for every mood, every season and every possible occasion, many of which, to be honest, rarely occur. Some shoes I’ve worn once. Others, not at all. And yet, I keep them, not out of neglect or indecision, but because they represent something more than utility.
This passion isn’t unique to me. Many women find themselves drawn to shoes in a way that goes beyond practicality. The collection may seem excessive from the outside, but there are valid and meaningful reasons behind it. Much like some men collect tools, buying equipment that may never be used, but still has value in its potential, shoes offer a similar sense of readiness, satisfaction and aesthetic enjoyment.
And yes, we get questioned for it. But interestingly, no one seems to ask why some men collect toolboxes full of gadgets they’ll never use. It’s understood that those tools have practical value, even if they sit idle. In the same way, our shoes matter too.
Some are about fashion. Styles evolve constantly and shoes are often one of the easiest ways to adapt to a trend without overhauling your entire wardrobe. A bold heel or a fresh pair of boots can instantly update a simple outfit, turning something ordinary into something memorable.
For many of us, shoes are a form of creative expression, a way to play with color, shape and attitude. A pair might be worn once and never again, but that doesn’t make it a mistake. It served a purpose in that particular moment. Maybe it helped us feel bold at a party where we were nervous to go alone or pulled an outfit together just right for a first date or an important interview. It gave us a boost of confidence, a little lift, sometimes literally, sometimes emotionally. And that alone is enough. Because fashion isn’t always about practicality. Sometimes it’s about feeling powerful, beautiful or simply in tune with who we are that day.
Sometimes we buy shoes for specific occasions, a wedding, a formal work event, a holiday trip or even a themed party that calls for something a little out of the ordinary. These aren’t everyday pairs. They’re the ones that live quietly in their boxes or on a high shelf, waiting for the moment they’re needed. Maybe it’s a pair of elegant heels you chose to match a dress you’ll only wear once or glittery sandals perfect for a summer evening abroad. They may not be practical in the day-to-day sense, but they serve a very real purpose: they help us rise to the occasion. They remind us that life isn’t just about routines, it’s about moments. And when those moments come, we want to show up feeling prepared, polished and a little bit magical. Those shoes might not get much wear, but they’re part of memories we carry for years.
Sales play their part, too. There’s something undeniably tempting about seeing a beautiful pair of shoes, ones that might have felt out of reach, suddenly within arm’s length thanks to a generous markdown. It's more than just a deal; it's a little thrill, a small victory. Even if we don’t need them right now, we imagine a time when we might. Maybe it’s that future dinner date we haven’t been invited to yet or a season that hasn’t come around again. We picture ourselves stepping into a moment that hasn’t happened, already dressed for it in our minds. That quiet little spark of future possibility is reason enough. Buying those shoes isn’t just about saving money, it’s about hope, preparation and allowing ourselves something lovely, just because. And sometimes, treating ourselves without justification is the most radical kind of self-care.
For some, shopping, especially for shoes, can even be deeply therapeutic. It’s not just about the item itself, but about the experience: the deliberate choice, the indulgence in beauty, the affirmation of personal taste. In a world that often asks women to shrink, to compromise or to put everyone else’s needs before their own, buying something just because it brings you joy can feel like a quiet, powerful act of rebellion. It’s a way of saying, I matter too.
And for transgender women, that meaning can run even deeper. Shoes can be more than accessories, they can be milestones. The first pair of heels, the first pair of flats that felt right, the boots that made you stand taller, literally and figuratively. Every new pair can be a celebration of identity, a small but significant marker of a journey that hasn’t always been easy. In those moments, shoes aren’t just purchases. They’re affirmations. They’re evidence that we are becoming who we were always meant to be.
So yes, I own shoes I may never wear. But each one earned its place. Each one tells a story. And if others can collect screwdrivers or socket sets for a hypothetical future, surely I can keep a few pairs of strappy sandals for the same reason.
After all, I don’t ask anyone to explain their toolbox. Don’t ask me to explain my heels.
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| Wearing Nine West |
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| Jiang Du femulating in the 2016 Chinese film Mr High Heels. |
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