Can we talk about my shoes?

Let's.

OK, so I have been coming apart at the seams since my beloved Pro-Keds came apart at the seams (quite literally, sadly). After two-plus years of solid use, they just started disintegrating, and no amount of Shoe Goo could keep them together. I loved these shoes. They were like Chuck Taylors, but with actual arch support and a more substantial sole. They were a staple of my wardrobe, and with their loss, my ability to dress myself for work declined significantly. To make matters worse, when I attempted to find a proper replacement, I learned that the line had been purchased by Rocawear. And y'know, as much as I used to love to don hip-hop clothes as a kid, the thought of wearing logo-emblazoned shoes like this makes me cry. So I've been looking for something to take their place. I wanted comfy black shoes that I could wear to work (I interpret our office dress code very loosely), wear out and not hear my footsies cry in pain afterward.

My plan for the weekend was to find brown pants. My favorite pair, as I said a few days ago, were destroyed by an uncapped permanent marker left in my pocket and I needed a new pair for my work uniform. I headed to Old Navy to try and find the dream pants. No dice. As much as I love Old Navy, it all went down in a manner that I am accustomed to at this store. One pair of pants was so tight that no waist extender in the world would would help. When I went up a size, however, the pants were so big and baggy that I could pull them down even when properly zipped and buttoned. So, no dice.

Wait, what was I talking about? Oh, yeah, shoes.

Anyway, Kyle had asked me to grab some Method all-purpose pink grapefruit-scented household cleaner at Target (seriously, he wants to make babies with that shit) while I was out pants-shopping. Um, you want me to go to Target? Hells yeah! Guilt-free consumerism, here I come.

And it was there that I found them. Target now carries fabric Converse One-Stars. Do you know how difficult it is to find cute, non-leather shoes? Very. The adult shoes were $29.99, but nearby, and looking remarkably similar (and by "similar," I mean, "the same") was a kiddie version for $19.99.

Check it out: Adults. Kids.

OK, are you back? Good. So, I decided to try an experiment. Would my size 6.5-7 tootsies fit in kiddie shoes? Oh, yes. Yes they would.

I'm wearing my new kicks now. I don't love them as much as those Pro-Keds (now collecting dust bunnies under the bed, as I can't yet bear to throw them out), but hell, they were cheap and reasonably stylish and not made of dead cows. And now I'm eyeing a pair in bubblegum pink.