I've never been one to splurge on shoes, nor do I have a vast collection. However, I've been hanging on to quite a few pairs that I no longer wear. Some are a bit out of style, while others are in need of a little repair; functionally though, they are all in okay shape.
Over the years, I have donated quite a bit of clothing to Big Brothers/Big Sisters and the Vietnam Veterans Association, but for whatever reason I've never really thought to donate my old, worn shoes. A few months back, however, I came across a photo spread in National Geographic's Green Guide that completely changed my mind. (Check it out here: What Happens to Donated Shoes.)
Soles 4 Souls, the program featured here, collects new and used shoes for both children and adults whose lives have been impacted by tragedy or hardship. Inspired by the sight on television of a single shoe washed ashore following the 2004 tsunami that hit Southeast Asia, its founder Wayne Elsey, has overseen the donation of more than 3.4 million pairs of shoes to date. He estimates that, throughout America, there are 1.5 billion pairs of unworn shoes in our closets. Billion. I can easily account for a dozen or so pairs.
I rooted around in our hallway closet and dusted off the shoes you see above, bundled each pair together and dropped them off at a nearby collection site. Easy as that. Find a collection site near you.
"Buy better, buy less." -- John Fluevog
I've always preferred quality to quantity. Give me a handful of cashmere sweaters over a cedar chest full of pilly blends. A couple of classic handbags over an array of knock-offs. A few pieces of real jewelry over a mound of the costume stuff. But on many occasions I've cheaped out on shoes (a) because I'm pretty hard on them and (b) because they're waaay down there and I don't think anybody really notices (or cares) what's on my my feet.
While I'm happy that I was able to fill the Soles 4 Souls box with so many pairs of shoes from my own closet (and there are more to come), I'd much rather embrace the John Fluevog approach and be more selective in my shoe purchases, thinking about the long-term socioeconomic benefit. While the dollar amount may be low, it's the "hidden" expenses (like sweatshops) that don't sit so well with me. I'm sure some of my shoes came from less-than-ideal conditions, but I'm happy to know that they will be put to continued use. And in the future, I'll think twice before buying a new pair of shoes.
_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because less really is more.
