January 5, 2010
When I was four years old I had this bright red pair of sneakers that I cherished. Having worn them a size too long I still wouldn't give them up. Eventually, my parents were forced to throw them out in the middle of the night. I was devastated, crying for hours. I can still remember my limp body being lugged into Payless, my winter boots (in July) dragging across the parking lot. I employed passive resistance long before I'd heard of Gandhi. I was so traumatized. Those bright red shoes were the last bold fashion statement of my life. Nothing but blues and earth-tones ever since.