Once upon a time, when I was younger, I used to think that the clicking of shoes showed you were an adult. Adults, in my opinion at the time, dressed up everyday for work and going out. They wore fancy clothes, did makeup and their shoes were loud clicking against everything. Concrete, tiles, even carpets if they were talented enough.
Being a child when I had these thoughts, I hated noisy shoes. I wasn't an adult, so I hadn't yet obtained the right to wear them. My tennis shoes weren't supposed to squeak in gym class, my flats weren't supposed to slap against the floor and my flip-flops weren't supposed to snap against my heel. Children's shoes were supposed to be silent, so I developed a love for going barefoot, where I made the least amount of sound. My shoes making sound was offensive, because it felt like I was lying to people and calling out to them that I was something I wasn't.
Now that I'm in my 30's and supposed to be an adult, the situation has changed and it's actually funny how my young mind used to work. Heels make me feel more confident because they click across the floor and I'm reminded or my old thoughts. A simple pair of heels with a small click and I feel so much more confident then anything else. The click has to be light and sharp, sounding as professional as the mental image in my head appears to be.
I dress up nice for work (most of the time) and occasionally wear make up. None of those things make me feel grown up, but the clicking of shoes always will. It's cemented as part of what I need to feel grown up.
I'm not grown up, not really. I still sit at home and relax with cartoons - anime really - and talk about silly things that really don't feel grown up. I write stories about the same things I did while I was younger and I still dress up in costumes, though now it's a bit more complicated then a box of my mom's old clothes and some silly old wigs. Being grown up is an illusion, wrapped around the child inside. I still feel like that little girl slipping on her mother's shoes and listening to them click across the floor, pretending I'm grown up for all to see.
Random thoughts is just a snippet of where my mind is at the time. It may or may not be related to a story I'm writing, or maybe it's stepping back and looking at the strange way my mind works.