I Bought Ugly Shoes for $175 and Now I Hate ThemBuyer’s remorse happens to the best of us.Published: February 18, 2019
My feet hurt. We’d been walking around New Orleans for three days straight. I’d made the mistake of wearing past-their-prime Chuck Taylors with little tread and zero cushion. And then it appeared on Magazine Street, like some sort of hilarious mirage: Good Feet.
A store that specializes in comfort shoes! No, not your grandpa’s Rockports. But honest-to-god shoes that look, well, normal and offer support. The sales clerk took one look at my old Chucks and shook her head. “Your back must be killing you,” she said. She pulled a few pairs of Eccos from the back.
Compared to my flat, dead Chucks the Eccos felt like I had pillow-top mattresses under my feet. There was arch support. Cushion. Comfort! The sign did not lie; these kicks were good for my feet. The Eccos, made of nice gray leather with a simple silhouette, looked like something I’d actually buy—and not just for comfort. I wore them out of the store and tossed my Chuck Taylors in the trash.
When I got back to New York, that wonderful new shoe smell wore off quickly. So did my love of my new purchase. I started to think they had deceiving mirrors at Good Feet. The shoes just looked... goofy. Sure, they weren’t too chunky, but I really began to dislike the small brown tag that said ECCO broadcasting to the world that I had back problems or a mid-life crisis. I couldn’t do it anymore. I bought a new pair of Converse to fill the void.
I tried to give the Eccos one last shot. For $175, I owed it to myself to make them work. But there’s no denying: I had Buyer’s Remorse. Every time I saw those gray leather shoes at the bottom of my closet I was filled with regret. I bought something I hated and couldn’t return.
That’s what this column is going to explore: the things we buy that we later regret. It’s okay, we all make mistakes. I’m not afraid to admit it: I paid $175 for a pair of ugly shoes that I wore, like, seven times and gave away six months later.
This story is a part of The Goods™, a series about the stuff we have, the stuff we love, and the intersection between the two.