After my son died, I could barely leave the house. I know it sounds crazy, but spending over $1,000 on Mary Janes finally made me want to dance again.
Before strip malls and e-commerce made shoe shopping mundane, one fast-talking, chain-smoking, small-town salesman elevated footwear hustling to an art form.
In a desolate desert ghost town, hundreds of road trippers from around the world have left their hearts and soles dangling from California’s unlikeliest tourist attraction.
As a cluttered little shop near Coney Island lives on without him, an ailing ninety-two-year-old shoemaker watches his son carry out the carefully polished family legacy.
I never thought I was pretty enough to be a fashion model—but little did I know that my fabulous feet most definitely were.
We humans are far more complex than the news headlines and clickbait would have you believe. Let the Narratively newsletter be your guide.
