Oh to be a ballet slipper! The glory alone is worth the abuse. Being a brand new Ballet slipper means you will suddenly be ripped apart, scored, bent, broken and quickly discarded when the usefulness has been outlived. I however am not a ballet slipper, but the kicked out cousin from that group.
I am a Ballet Flat.
Doesn't that just sound like the next best thing? I am not a ballerina, I am a cast out for the girl who could never dance, but wanted desperately to be a part of that culture. Not to be so sad about it, but can I actually be comfortable? I'm so glad that I sparkle and I'm happy that there are lots of girls who are happy to put me to the ground but my abuse is not glamorous.
I feel like my mother was a Prima ballerina's toe shoe and my father was a Yachting yahoo's penny loafer. I'm low to the ground, and barely adorned with a cute little leather cord that is supposed to make me feel like I'm pretty.
Sitting on the shelf at the fancy boutique because I am supposed to be the 'in' style, the pretty stilettos look down on me and ask how I can call myself a shoe? Then when I finally get taken home every shoe except the flip flops laugh and tell me I'm not practical. I'm a slipper, not a shoe or a sandal. I'm a dress shoe, but not a heel, I'm just not as good as everyone else.
Well I tell you what! I am good enough, I'm good enough not to make your feet hurt at the end of the night. I am cute enough to be considered the cute shoes. I am good enough to be those slippers that a prima ballerina puts on after a show because they make her feel closer to the stage she just got off of. I am a ballet flat. I'll say it loud "I'm cute and I'm proud!" at least... I'm cute to someone.
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