During a recent interview on a reviewer’s site, I was asked a question that made me think about the essential differences between the sexes when it comes to things like priority and value.  The question was:

It seems you are quite a shoe shopper, do you think this is really only a female trait or do you think that men can be just as bad when it comes to shoes?

 Here’s my answer:

I’d have to speculate that it’s most likely a singularly female trait—no doubt the result of some quirky twist in our DNA. My husband had long given up trying to understand the relationship between shoes and female chromosomes, until one day I explained the compulsion as part of an inseparable trifecta—a love for shoes, an insatiable desire for chocolate, and the ability to flawlessly apply make-up while driving. He’s never asked me about it since.

Pretty innocuous stuff. An innocent question designed to show the more personal side of an author, and a writer’s attempt at delivering a witty response. Nothing all that unusual, but it got me to thinking . . .

What if the age-old discussion about the differences between men and the fairer sex came down to just one essential ingredient—shoes?  What if all the psychological studies and sociological debate over the inconsistencies and dissimilarities between men and women were simply reflections of how our feet hit the pavement?

My husband owns four pair – black and brown loafers, a pair of tennis shoes and some leather Sperry’s. He says that’s all he needs. But that’s what he’s supposed to say. Because he’s, well, a . . . man. He gets by with four pair because five pair would be extravagant, a waste of money, and . . . un-manly. He—like most men—suffers from obvious shoe deficiency (OSD for short).  But really now, can a simple case of OSD make that much difference in a person’s behavior?

I’m sure of it. Pardon the personal reference, but if you threatened to cut my shoe stash down to four pair, you’d see some changes in my temperament. For example, I might not be inclined to pick my clothes up off the floor (or his either). I’d probably let the dirty dishes sit in the sink an extra hour or two, hoping Alice would decide to abandon the Brady Bunch and suddenly show up at my door. My usually glowing personality and charming disposition would take a dive straight into the dumper.  And men, if you think a woman’s mood swings produced some radical behavioral shifts before we bought both the red and the white pair of the same style stiletto pumps, just take away our shoes and you’ll look back on our previous eruptions of alternative personas—including one of my all-time favorites, axe-wielding Lizzie Borden—as a precious memory you can only long for.

Bottom line, the huge gulf of silence and confusion that currently resides between Mars and Venus could be shrunk to the occasional pregnant pause, if more men made a monthly trip to Macy’s to check out the latest Florsheims. In fact, I’m sure if a man’s closet was stocked with an adequate complement of footwear, he would soon find himself enjoying the advantages of intuition, thoughtful reflection, and sympathetic sensitivity.

Just sayin’. . . .

Until next time,

Jaye