Based on previous posts claiming I look to buy cruelty-free goods, the fact I have begun purchasing leather products in the last year may come as a hypocrisy.
Go ahead, my fellow vegetarians and vegans. I submit to your judgements, your ridicule, and your loathing. I am somewhat still punishing myself with those tactics.
I have not purchased a single leather item, not in any capacity, since I gave up all oxygen-breathing animals in 1996. My shoes, my belts, my purses… all have been vinyl for over a decade.
All glossy and kitsch, and often in such bright, kicky colors and styles, vinyl became my favorite accessory.
I never have bought a new purse, always preferring a second-hand vintage vinyl bag or clutch in contrast to the newest styles made of virgin materials and made in China.
My shoes and belts, however, were always new, shiny, and vinyl. My first vinyl shoes were a pair of black vinyl Chucks (aka Converse), circa 1996. My dad disapproved of the $60 or so my mom gave me to buy a pair of tennis shoes he feared would crack and peel within the first three wears.
Those Chucks lasted two years of constant wear. I was the girl who wore my Chucks with just about everything except my cheerleading uniform. From that point forward, I dedicated myself to “all man-made materials” shoes.
Hiking boots, tennis shoes, and outdoor sandals have not been a problem. The REI-brand hiking boots are excellent, and my Keen shoes are wonderful. Unfortunately, high heels have been a constant battle. My first three pairs of high heels were all comfortable and solidly-built of synthetic materials. I felt unstoppable in my quest for cute fake-leather shoes.
Then, a couple years ago, my size 10 boats feet became size 11. Suddenly, finding any heels that were both comfortable and cute was a chore. Worse, even ballet flats and tennis shoes were insanely painful. Those plastic shoes I had worn for a decade just would not flex and stretch with the needs of my feet.
Last summer, after a year of meditating on the complexities of the issue and trying on hundreds of pairs of shoes, I gave up and decided to try on leather shoes as well. The last pair of leather shoes I had owned was my Adidas soccer cleats in 1996, supple and sleek, made of kangaroo skin.
To be fair, many leather shoes also do not fit properly. I do not know if that is more an indication of the further unrealistic expectations of the fashion industry, the cheap design, quality, and construction of most shoes, or my odd, barely-arched size 11 feet. Whatever the case, I was thrilled just to have a few more options to try.
Since then, I have purchased a pair of leather flats that do not try to rub off my pinky-toe, and two pairs of four-inch heels that make me feel like a stock-broker and 50s housewife simultaneously. And I barely look back to regret those purchases, as what good would that accomplish?
I do not feel great about these purchases. Each of my dollars say something, and I believe each dollar I spend tells a company that I support animals being hung alive and having their skins removed while they writhe and scream out in pain. This is not a practice I like to advocate, but it is very much a reality of the byproduct market of the factory-farming industry. As far as I am concerned, a vegetarian that wears leather can sugar-coat it and turn the argument any direction they wish in order to sleep better at night, but the reality remains the same.
I also, however, have to weigh out my options with the fact that my feet need to be treated with respect too. If I spend hours a day abusing my feet, they will cripple in time, and I will suffer the resulting self-inflicted handicap and debilitation.
Until I find the “right” answer, I will consider every option, simply make the best decision I can, and attempt to forgive myself for whatever sacrifice I have made.
Sustainably yours, Ashley Sue
I caught the link to a post from True Nourishment 
