Easy Spirit

My mom's closet is the size I dream about. A walk-in affair, it has its own window and being my mom's, is organized to the hilt.

You'll find many things in my mom's closet. A vintage alligator handbag. A 1970s polyester poncho. Various plastic-wrapped sweaters that crinkle for no good reason. 

But amongst the wardrobe items and memoribilia, the thing you'll find most, the thing hoarded in Midas-like mounds, piled and apparently propegating amongst themselves, are an unbelievable number of white, worn, Easy Spirit tennis shoes. 

On any given day, in any given weather, you can bet your sweet patootie that The Momster will be sporting her Easy Spirits and matching cushy ankle socks. She might be wearing her white pants, or maybe her off-white pants, or even - in a recent wardrobe adjustment that had frogs pelting out of the sky and birds flying backwards for weeks - jeans, but except for a pair of renegade thongs on the rare sweltering day, her feet will not be found enswaddled in anything but Easy Spirits.

For to go against that mandate? Heresy! It would break The First Unmitigatable Rule of Law:

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it." 

And apparently, that's especially true when it comes to feet. 


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I am a writer and lazy artist who loves travel, architecture and design. Right now, I'm into photography. My fabulous husband (a.k.a. The Varmint) and I are also the principals of a San Diego-based creative agency - and new parents to the divine Baby Mak. Read More >