Dance Shoes

I refuse to buy a pair of dance shoes.

Considering that I go dancing about three times a week, it only makes sense that I treat myself to a proper pair. Maybe a pair of dance sneakers – hardy, no fuss and goes pretty well with jeans; perhaps a pair of ballroom shoes that gleam like a spotlight in a jewellery store.

But no, I refuse to buy a pair of dance shoes.

When I first started dancing, I wore this pair of Nike which I acquired in 1998. Although it is currently in a vegetating state, I still wear them for dance lessons every now and then. The soles are perfectly worn out making spinning a breeze. The fabric, so well acquainted with my feet over the years, hugs them like a blanket around a newly born. The only problem with my retiring runners is that the soles fall apart like a Mr PotatoHead with leprosy.

I remember the first time the rubber soles started flapping. I glued them back with Selley’s Kwik Grip. I was pretty proud of myself that I was able to extend the longevity of my self-made dance sneakers. However, quite a lot of effort was required to keep the shoes intact. I would hit the dance floor once the glue has dried, only to have the soles falling apart again not long after. The entire process of gluing, clamping and drying eventually became too tedious. I was gluing my shoes on a weekly basis and surely I was becoming an addict to the fumes of the contact glue.

Eventually I gave up on ‘98 Nike and turned to my suede Hush Puppies. Weighing less than half of the old Nikes, the Hush Puppies became the essential instrument for fancy footwork. My feet were as light as a student’s wallet and weightless as a hippo on the moon. However, the rubber soles were causing me problems. The rubber soles create more friction than North Korea. To smooth the soles, I sanded them with abrasive paper and abused them by shuffling my feet whenever I walked. After a month of seasoning, my Hush Puppies became the perfect pair of dance shoes. Well, not so perfect because it decided to retire last week after all the punishment. The stitches fell apart exposing a huge hole by the side. My toes were well-ventilated but I could no longer dance in them.

I still refuse to buy a pair of dance shoes.

Immediately, I popped by the nearest Hush Puppies and bought myself the same pair of suede shoes while the old one took a hike in my local trash compacter. Perhaps the money would have been better spent on a proper pair of dance shoes, but I thought I could pull it off for the second time. I was in class three days ago and my attempt to do a double turn was as comical as it was disastrous. I needed to season my Hush Puppies all over again.

Now why do I still refuse to buy a proper pair of dance shoes? I think it is an ego problem. I can’t exactly explain why, but it probably has to do with my stubbornness not to be at odds with a statement I once made to myself years ago…….

……..I refuse to buy a pair of dance shoes.