That's 7 pairs of black flats and 12 pairs of other flats. At this point, it qualifies as an addiction. But an addiction that came about for a few good reasons because I:
- Like them.
- Can't walk in heels.
- Need to make up for lost time. When Sam & Libby flats were all the rage in the early 90s, my high arches prevented me from wearing them. The effects of not being able to wear what I wanted, when I wanted, still linger. (Though Mom did eventually find me a pair that worked. But they weren't Sam & Libby and the actual name escapes me as Daddy always called them Fred & Barney.)
So, really, blame my childhood and genetics (height, poor balance, high arches) on the fact that at 27 I now own almost 20 pairs of the same kind of shoes.