Silver Sandals

After school or on Saturdays, I would sometimes take the bus to downtown Boston to the Goodwill store. It was a brick building, inside was a large hall with high factory windows. The merchandise was lying on tables so you wouldn’t have to bend over to look at it. One day there were high-heeled sandals with a bit of a platform, tied together in pairs, in a pile on one of the tables. They cost 49 cents, or maybe it was $1.49. They were left over from the 1940’s, and the manufacturer had probably decided to finally clear them out (it was in the nineteen-sixties by then). The black suede ones were actually my size, and I wore them to Paragon Park later with Louise and her boyfriend, Jimmy Canavas. (We thought that was the most amazing name because it sounded like “cannabis”.) I felt so good stepping out the front door wearing a light grey cable knit sweater and a straight narrow skirt of the same colour (both from Goodwill) when they picked me up. The silver ones never fit me, they’re too small. My daughters never wore them to any carnival dress-up parties; the second-hand store in Vienna didn’t want them, so here they are.
Irma Rappl-Wilson