This poem is for every baby-boomer grandma - it just shows how, if you wait long enough, fashion repeats itself. Except, in some cases we get lucky enough to miss it the second time around! 

I can still picture my Nana’s shoes as if it were yesterday when she would drive me (at 25 mph down the highway) to my ballet lessons in her 1933 baby blue Nash…with me wishing she’d put those clunky, black tied shoes to the pedal so I wouldn’t be late…again!

Old Grandma Shoes

When I was very little
All the Grandmas that I knew
Were wearing the same kind
Of ugly grandma shoes…

You know the kind I mean..
Clunky heeled, black, lace-up kind,
They just looked so very awful
That it weighed upon my mind,

For I knew, when I grew old,
I’d have to wear those shoes,
I’d think of that, from time to time
It seemed like such bad news.

I never was a rebel,
I wore saddle shoes to school,
And next came ballerinas
Then the sandals, pretty cool.

And then came spikes with pointed toes
Then platforms, very tall,
As each new fashion came along
I wore them, one and all.

But always, in the distance,
Looming in my future, there,
Was that awful pair of ugly shoes,
The kind that Grandmas wear.

I eventually got married
And then I became a Mom
Our kids grew up and left,
And when their children came along,

I knew I was a Grandma
And the time was drawing near
When those clunky, black, old lace up shoes
Was what I’d have to wear.

How would I do my gardening
Or take my morning hike?
I couldn’t even think about
How I would ride my bike!

But fashions kept evolving
And one day I realized
That the shape of things to come
Was changing, right before my eyes.

And now, when I go shopping
What I see, fills me with glee
For, in my jeans and Reeboks
I’m as comfy as can be.

And I look at all these little girls
And there, upon their feet
Are clunky, black, old Grandma shoes,
And I really think that’s neat.

~ by Betty Cessna ~