An illustrated letter about finding the right fit

At 68, I kept buying shoes a size too big because my toes felt squeezed. My daughter asked why I hadn't tried a wider fit.

There were four pairs of shoes lined up beside my front door last Saturday morning, and not one of them fitted the way I wanted.

Four pairs.

All bought within the last couple of years.

One was too narrow across the front. Another slipped at the heel. The third looked perfectly nice but felt awkward once I'd been wearing it for a while.

And the fourth?

I'd bought that pair a whole size bigger because I thought it would give my toes more room.

It did.

Unfortunately, it also left so much space in front of my toes that I never felt quite right wearing them.

My daughter Kate noticed when she came around to take me shopping.

I was sitting on the bottom stair trying to decide which pair was going to cause the least trouble.

She looked at the shoes scattered across the floor and asked what was wrong.

I explained that my usual size was becoming too tight, so I'd started buying larger ones.

Kate picked up the newest pair, looked at the length and then looked at my feet.

"Mum, are your feet getting longer, or do you just need more room across the front?"

I told her I hadn't really thought about it.

She looked at me for a moment.

Then she said something I wish somebody had asked me years ago.

"Mum, why are you buying longer shoes when it's the width that's bothering you?"

I sat there looking at those four pairs of shoes.

And I realised she was absolutely right.

I'd spent years trying to solve the wrong problem.

At sixty-eight, my feet aren't quite the same as they were when I was younger.

But instead of properly considering the shape of the shoes, I'd simply been going up a size and hoping for the best.

It's rather embarrassing when you think about it.

I've been buying my own shoes for more than fifty years.

And I'd somehow forgotten that length and width are two different things.

I'm writing this because I suspect there are other women over sixty-five who have been doing something similar.

Buying a bigger size because their shoes feel tight.

Then wondering why the heel slips or the front feels too long.

And eventually deciding that finding a comfortable pair of everyday shoes is simply one of those things that gets more difficult with age.

Perhaps it doesn't always have to be.

How I ended up buying the wrong size

For most of my adult life, I bought the same shoe size without giving it much thought.

I knew what fitted me.

I could walk into a shop, find my size, try on two or three pairs and usually leave with something perfectly suitable.

Then, gradually, things changed.

Some shoes began feeling a little tight across the toes.

Others seemed fine first thing in the morning but less pleasant by the time I'd spent an afternoon out.

And I noticed that I was becoming much more particular about what I wanted to put on my feet.

I assumed my feet had simply grown.

So the next time I ordered shoes, I went up a size.

That seemed sensible.

Except the extra length didn't solve everything.

Sometimes the front still felt awkward.

And now I had the added problem of shoes that were longer than I needed.

So I'd tighten the laces.

Then loosen them again.

Then decide perhaps I should have bought my old size after all.

Before long, I had a wardrobe full of shoes that were either a little too narrow or a little too long.

None of them was exactly what I wanted.

And I had quietly accepted that as normal.

What I had wrong about finding the right fit

After Kate pointed it out, I started paying more attention to how shoes are actually sized.

And something became very obvious.

Going up a size generally changes the length of a shoe.

But sometimes what you're really looking for is more room through the forefoot.

Those aren't necessarily the same thing.

A shoe that's the right length but too narrow can feel wrong.

And a shoe that's wider than you need might not hold your foot the way you want either.

It isn't as simple as saying everybody should buy a bigger or wider pair.

The fit needs to match the actual foot.

I began wondering why I had never thought about that before.

Perhaps because for years, it hadn't been something I needed to consider.

But when things change, the way you shop sometimes has to change with them.

At sixty-eight, I don't particularly want to spend my Saturdays trying on shoes and wondering which compromise I'll be least annoyed by.

I want to find something suitable and get on with enjoying my day.

That seemed a perfectly reasonable thing to ask.

The white sneakers I nearly overlooked

A few evenings later, I was browsing Perth Boutique when I came across a pair called Bonnie.

The full product name is Bonnie Orthopedic Sneakers.

Now, I have to say, I'm rather cautious when I see the word orthopaedic attached to ordinary footwear.

I've seen plenty of advertisements making enormous promises about what a pair of shoes can do.

And I don't believe a name alone tells you whether something will suit your feet.

But I was interested in the actual design.

The Bonnie is a white lace-up sneaker with a patterned mesh upper, small decorative openings and a gently elevated sole.

It has a slightly more feminine appearance than some of the large, chunky trainers I've looked at in the past.

There are also subtle sparkling details worked into the upper.

Not enough to make them look like evening shoes.

Just a little something different from an ordinary plain-white trainer.

But the detail that made me stop was further down the product page.

There were two width options.

Normal fit.

And wide fit.

For the first time in quite a while, I was looking at a pair of shoes where I could consider the width separately from the length.

And that was exactly what Kate had been telling me to do.

I didn't order immediately.

I'd made enough mistakes buying shoes to know that it was worth checking the details first.

I looked at the size options.

I looked at the difference between normal and wide fit.

And I reminded myself that simply choosing wide wasn't necessarily the answer either.

What mattered was finding the option that suited my actual measurements.

That was a rather different approach from the one I'd been taking for years.

The details I liked about the Bonnie

There were several things that caught my attention once I looked beyond the size options.

The first was the upper.

I've always liked a shoe that doesn't look too heavy, particularly during the warmer months.

The Bonnie has a patterned mesh design with little decorative openings across the front and sides.

Perth Boutique describes the material as breathable.

And the small sparkling details give it a slightly dressier appearance than a completely plain sneaker.

Then there were the laces.

I know some women prefer slip-on shoes.

And there are certainly days when I appreciate them too.

But with sneakers, I like being able to adjust how firmly the upper sits around my foot.

Laces give you a way to fine-tune that part of the fit.

They don't correct a shoe that's the wrong shape, of course.

But they're a useful feature when the rest of the sizing is suitable.

I also liked the look of the sole.

It has a gently raised profile rather than looking completely flat.

The store describes a lightweight sole with cushioning and arch-support features.

Those are product-design claims rather than guarantees of how any particular person's feet will respond.

But they were details I wanted to consider alongside the size, width and overall shape.

And the white colour made sense for my wardrobe.

I could imagine wearing them with jeans, linen trousers and the cotton dresses I start pulling out every October.

That's the kind of versatility I appreciate.

There is nothing particularly complicated about their appearance.

And I mean that as a compliment.

At this age, I am much more interested in choosing shoes I can imagine wearing regularly than something fashionable that only works with one outfit.

The Bonnie looked like the sort of white sneaker that could fit naturally into my ordinary wardrobe.

What happened when I changed how I chose shoes

When I considered the Bonnie, I made myself do something I'd been avoiding for years.

I stopped assuming I knew exactly what size I needed.

Instead, I thought about where my old shoes had actually been going wrong.

Was the toe area too narrow?

Was there too much length in front?

Did the heel feel secure?

Was I buying a larger size because I needed more width?

It felt slightly ridiculous to be asking myself those questions at sixty-eight.

But I suppose there's no reason we should know everything simply because we've been doing something for years.

Sometimes habits become so familiar that we stop questioning them.

And mine had been to solve every footwear problem by going up a size.

Once I recognised that, the process became much simpler.

I could think about length and width separately.

And I could choose more carefully instead of ordering another pair and hoping for the best.

The Saturday outing I had been looking forward to

The following Saturday, Kate and I had arranged to spend the morning together.

She wanted to visit a few shops, pick up some things for the garden and have lunch somewhere afterwards.

It was one of those lovely Perth spring mornings when the weather is warm enough to go without a heavy cardigan but not so hot that you want to stay indoors.

I wore pale linen trousers, a simple cotton top and white sneakers.

Nothing especially fashionable.

Just the sort of outfit I like for an ordinary morning out.

And I had made a point of paying attention to the fit before leaving.

Not simply whether the shoes went on.

But whether there was appropriate room at the front, whether the length suited me and whether I could adjust the laces without needing to pull them unnecessarily tight.

It was surprisingly satisfying to think about those things properly.

Kate noticed the white sneakers when she arrived.

"New shoes, Mum?"

I told her I'd finally listened to what she'd said about width.

She smiled.

"Well, that only took a couple of years."

Daughters can be just as cheeky as sisters when they know they're right.

We went about our morning without making footwear the centre of the conversation.

Which, when you think about it, is exactly how it ought to be.

We looked through the shops.

Had lunch.

Stopped to collect a few things on the way home.

And talked about the grandchildren, Kate's garden and all the ordinary things that fill a Saturday.

It wasn't a particularly exciting day.

But it was lovely.

And I was pleased I'd finally stopped treating shoe size as though it were only a number that needed increasing whenever something didn't feel right.

The thing Kate noticed over lunch

We were sitting at a little café when Kate asked whether I'd decided what was different about the shoes I'd been buying.

I told her I thought I'd simply become so used to choosing the same size that I'd never properly considered the shape.

And when that size started feeling tight across the front, I'd gone longer instead of asking whether I needed something wider.

She nodded.

Then she said something else that made sense.

"Mum, there's no point having another centimetre in front of your toes if that's not where you need the room."

It is a perfectly ordinary observation.

But it was exactly the sort of thing I hadn't been thinking about.

I was buying shoes according to a habit I'd developed decades ago.

My feet had changed.

My preferences had changed.

But my way of choosing footwear hadn't.

And perhaps that was why I'd been having so little luck.

Why white was the colour I wanted

There are several colours in the Bonnie range.

Black, dark blue, grey, pink and other options alongside white.

But the white appealed to me most.

I already have plenty of dark shoes.

And during the warmer months, I wear an awful lot of cream, pale blue, denim and soft linen colours.

A simple white sneaker works nicely with those things.

I especially like white shoes with blue jeans and a loose cotton blouse.

It's an easy combination that doesn't require much thought.

And I like that the Bonnie has a little detail through the mesh and stitching, rather than being completely plain.

There's something slightly feminine about the design.

Not a formal shoe.

Not an enormous athletic trainer.

Just a white sneaker with enough detail to make it interesting.

That suits me.

Three things I've learned about buying shoes after 65

One. Length and width are different things. I spent years buying longer shoes when what bothered me was the space across the front of my foot. A wide-fit option is worth considering if width is genuinely the issue, but the overall shoe still needs to match your measurements.

Two. Don't judge fit simply by whether you can get the shoe on. It matters where your toes sit, how the heel feels, and whether the shoe works with the actual shape of your foot. Laces can help adjust the upper, but they can't turn an unsuitable size into a suitable one.

Three. Everyday shoes can still look lovely. I've spent enough years feeling as though practical sneakers needed to look bulky or overly sporty. I rather like a white pair with some subtle detail that works with the clothes I actually wear.

That first lesson has probably been the most useful.

Because it changed the question I ask when shopping.

Instead of automatically wondering whether I should buy a bigger size, I now think about what part of the fit needs to be different.

It seems such a simple distinction.

But it took me until sixty-eight to pay proper attention to it.

What I stopped doing afterwards

A few days later, I went back through the shoes in my wardrobe.

There were pairs I hadn't worn in months.

Some were too narrow.

Some were too long.

And a couple had been bought simply because I thought they'd eventually become more comfortable if I wore them enough.

I've stopped believing that about shoes.

If the basic fit is wrong, I don't think it's sensible to spend weeks hoping the problem will disappear.

And I certainly don't think it's worth keeping a whole collection of shoes I don't enjoy wearing.

I decided I'd be more careful with the next pair I chose.

Take the time to check the measurements.

Look at the width options.

Consider the actual shape rather than simply ordering the size I've always bought.

And stop treating every uncomfortable pair as evidence that my feet were somehow becoming impossible to fit.

At sixty-eight, I'd rather have fewer shoes that suit my needs than a wardrobe full of expensive compromises.

And I think that is the part of getting older I appreciate most.

Not having to keep buying things just because they're fashionable.

Not needing to pretend that my feet are exactly the same as they were thirty years ago.

Just being a little more thoughtful about choosing things that actually suit me.

About the price

I want to be straightforward about what the Bonnie sneakers cost, because it's something I always check before buying shoes online.

Perth Boutique currently lists the Bonnie Orthopedic Sneakers at $69.95 AUD, with a displayed comparison price of $140.00.

That's an advertised saving of approximately fifty per cent.

It is a substantial reduction, so I would always suggest looking carefully at the design and sizing rather than buying something simply because it's on sale.

The Bonnie comes in sizes labelled AU 5 through AU 12, with corresponding EU sizes shown on the product page.

There are also two width choices:

Normal fit and wide fit.

That was the detail that originally interested me.

The store describes a breathable mesh upper, decorative sparkling details, a lightweight sole and supportive design features.

Those are the manufacturer's advertised features, and individual comfort will naturally vary.

The word orthopaedic is part of the product name, but I wouldn't take it as proof that a shoe can treat a particular foot condition.

If you have a medical concern about your feet, it's worth asking a qualified professional what type of footwear is appropriate.

Perth Boutique also advertises free Australian delivery.

I'd check the current return conditions carefully before ordering, particularly because getting footwear sizing right online can take a little more attention than buying ordinary clothing.

For me, the appeal of the Bonnie is the combination of a white everyday sneaker, a lace-up design and the choice between normal and wider fittings.

That's worth taking a closer look at if you're reconsidering how you choose shoes.

What I would tell you if we were friends

If you and I were sitting at my kitchen table with a cup of tea between us, and you told me you'd been buying bigger and bigger shoes because your toes always felt squeezed, I'd understand completely.

I spent years doing exactly that.

I'd buy my usual size.

Discover it wasn't quite right.

Order a larger one.

Then spend the next few weeks wondering why the heel felt loose or the front seemed too long.

And eventually, I'd put the shoes in the wardrobe and start looking again.

I thought I had difficult feet.

But perhaps I simply wasn't asking the right questions.

There is a difference between needing extra length and needing more width.

And I wish somebody had pointed that out to me earlier.

Now, I am not suggesting the Bonnie will be the perfect shoe for everybody.

Of course it won't.

Some women prefer slip-ons.

Some need a different heel shape.

Others have particular fitting requirements that an ordinary fashion sneaker may not meet.

But if you're looking for a simple white lace-up shoe and have been wishing there were different width options, the Bonnie is worth investigating.

Have a proper look at the photographs.

Check the size chart.

Compare the normal and wide-fit choices.

And think about what actually bothers you in the shoes you already own.

Don't simply buy a bigger size because that's what you've always done.

At sixty-eight, I think we're entitled to make a few everyday things simpler.

And choosing shoes shouldn't require a collection of four almost-right pairs lined up beside the front door.

I told Kate she'd been right about the width.

She smiled rather smugly.

Daughters do enjoy those moments.

But I was glad she'd said something.

Because after all these years, it's rather nice to discover that sometimes the problem isn't that getting older has made everything more difficult.

Sometimes you simply need a different way of looking at things.

At 68, I've stopped buying longer shoes and hoping they'll somehow fit better. I'd rather understand what my feet actually need.

Maggie