An Ode to My Dirty White Converse

An Ode to My Dirty White Converse

Three years ago, when I turned 19,

I decided to expand my footwear.

I asked my mom for a pair of sneakers,

Specified the style and the size.

I awaited their arrival,

Oblivious of the future,

Of the next three years I’d share with them.

They were the purest of white,

In that vintage high top style

That was totally ‘in’ again.

Instantly I was attached,

A childish glee overcame me,

When I thought of wearing my new white shoes.

I limped around campus for about two weeks,

Afflicted by those dreaded blisters

The extra price of brand new shoes.

Eventually I was healed,

My socks no longer stained red

And thus, the official beginning

Of my new favorite shoes.

I paired them with shorts,

I sported them with jeans,

And if the occasion allowed,

My converse even accompanied a dress.

Anything my soul desired really,

Could be matched with my white shoes.

The once unpigmented shade

Was now stained with brown and green.

I liked the tattered look,

It indicated experience.

After a muddy trek through a storm,

I finally washed my shoes.

The laces were sullied,

And the white had dulled,

But that blinding hue was never meant to last.

Anyone who buys white knows that.

A lot can happen in three years,

Especially in college.

I undoubtedly wore these shoes

At least twice a week,

So most things that have happened

In the course of these two years,

My converse have seen them too.

They watched me ace an exam

From the professor who called me stupid,

They were with me when I wiped out,

And collided with my bed post.

And they were there the next three weeks,

When I resembled Harry Potter.

They saw me make new friends,

They watched a boy break my heart.

And over this past summer,

They rode a horse with me out West.

Three years of wear and tear,

Muddy driveways and grass stains.

Dirty footprints and dust clouds.

They were even there on the night

When the drinks spilled onto them

Were finally spilled legally.

The washing machine can only do so much,

Anyone who buys white knows that.

But I still love those shoes,

I still sport them at least twice a week.

I’ve seen other converse,

Different colors and styles.

A girl can never have too many shoes,

But I can never seem to replace

My whitish-brown converse.

Although I’m nowhere close

To who I was at 19,

They’re still my favorite pair.

I hope they last forever,

Or a few more years at least.

But for the time being,

I should probably wash them soon

Because as I put them on today,

The white hue was dimming in distress.