A few years back, when I was still in the Acquisition phase of my life, I created one of them niche tumblrs for a series of photographs I was taking that I thought might be able to find its audience through the magic of social media. The photographs were of the shoes, and sometimes ID badges, of men adjacent to whom I found myself sitting in various public bathroom stalls. It was called Poopin’ Shoes, and although it never hosted more than a few handfuls of such pics, the act of creating it caused me to pay even more attention to the shoes of men in these adjacent stalls when visiting the bathrooms. When there were photo ID badges dangling from belts, grazing the floors, I imagined the person as a photograph of a head floating above a pair of shoes walking around an office. My coworkers and I didn’t wear badges, but sometimes, the shoes belonged to coworkers, and I’d usually realize these cases during staff meetings or at client sites. I distinctly disliked knowing next to whom I was sitting in the bathroom, but I could also not unknow it - especially not with all the photos and what have you.
At my new job, we all wear photo ID badges, and we share bathrooms, and the men spend more money on their shoes than the men at my old job did. I have even bought a couple of nice and distinctive pairs of shoes myself. I like them. But I am terrified to wear them to work, because what if some head-case in the next stall is taking pictures and posting them on a blog somewhere?
So I’m doing what any sane person would do in this situation: I’m cataloging what kinds of shoes everyone wears, so that I can buy and wear to work only the most common and/or ordinary shoes. Of course I tuck my badge into my pocket when I visit the loo, but remarkable shoes, I know all too well, are unwelcome beacons.
Nike Free mens’ running shoes, in case you were wondering.
And yes, it’s totally possible to traumatize oneself.