I usually only require two things for a good pair of shoes:
1.) They must be comfortable.
2.) They must be as close to the ground as possible. High heels are inappropriate in any season.
These rules and then some are never more enforced than in the winter months. Though I am liable to fall down at least once or twice during every season, January and February are just plain trouble all around. My shoes are just as much my mode of transportation as Babbity Rabbity, my little gray trundle of a Volkswagen. And so, they must provide just as much reliability and protection, not to mention traction. Icy sidewalks are nothing to snerk at, and wet socks even less so.
We've had snow since late November here, and I don't expect to see any sign of spring until late March. It's going to be a long winter for me and my reliable shoes, brown with thick gray soles, scuffed toes and laces caked in salt. Less than a month of winter and they already look so very exhausted.
They sure aren't ruby red slippers, but they do a pretty good job getting me home.
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Note: This scribbling is brought to you by the snow that is currently falling outside my window. Pretty to look at, not so pretty to walk in. Even less to drive in. Both my shoes and car performed quite valiantly today in the face of sideways slush and messy streets. I am just grateful to be home.
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