Retiring a(nother) Pair of Toms

There are few brands I love as much as TOMS. The product is up to snuff with my crazy wide feet and ridiculous weight distribution, and I wear each pair until they begin to fall apart. I bought my first pair in 2010, and in 2012, the time finally came to replace them. So, I decided to do something that has recently turned into tradition. I decided to retire my TOMS in an unconventional way — by turning them into an art piece.

I decided that because these TOMS had taken me everywhere — into college graduation, through nearly every art museum in New York City, to my first apartment, and there and back again from my first whirlwind trip through Europe — I'd document every place I'd been in those shoes. And I'd do it in ink, directly on their now worn-down soles.

And I shared this Instagram image with TOMS back in 2012, and they actually re-posted it! I was super flattered, but made the mistake of reading the comments. I was called a "fraud" and "liar," with one commenter saying, "It would be impossible for a person go to all those places in such a short period of time." Well, long-forgotten username, I have bad news for you. I've just retired my second pair of TOMS, and I went further and faster in these than before.
 

I love this (now) tradition for a few reasons. One, it turns something used into something new. Also, it's a great way to document my travels and tribulations over time. But more than anything, it's an active narrative. The worn-off treads and too-rounded corners, the canvas rips where my heels stretch too thin and the ribboning elastic tell a story all their own. But these words, doodles, and dates give a real context to where and who I've been since I first slipped on this pair.

And this pair saw a lot. These two shoes saw me leave my last apartment, rent a home, and eventually buy my own. I returned to NYC six more times in these shoes, traveled back to Italy, saw over 8 WWE Live events, watched some of my best friends get married, and even lost a few teeth, broke a few bones, and got my heart broken a few times along the way. And to see it encapsulated — all the ups and downs 4 years can bring — on the soles of 2 shoes, makes it all seem to make sense in hindsight.

And whatever's coming next will one day fit nicely on the soles of my newest pair. The tradition continues, one step at a time. And I welcome the new adventure with open arms and (temporarily) bare feet.