What’s up with galoshes?
As a child, I refused to put the big, goofy rubber shoes over my own. Because that’s how they used to be made.
As a college grad, new to the big bad, smelly, grimy especially when it has just begun raining city, I cherished them. I wore my purple spotted pair until the tears in the bottoms of both boots made them about as useful as flip-flops. Five years ago everyone had them in ever color and ever heal size.
As a working woman who just wants to get to and from home without ruining my cute shoes, I realize I really need to invest in a new pair.
Over the last two days here in New York, there’s been lots of sporadic rain. And nary a galosh to be seen. So I ask, where did all of the galoshes go?