Chapter 3 The first chapter prostrates at the feet of Fernando Pensato's mother

Christina Psychologists are right that the most important key to a person's likes and dislikes, and the most important factor in determining a person's personality, usually happens before he or she is three years old.No matter whether this person is optimistic and enterprising and full of hope for the future, or gloomy and full of resentment towards life, whether he is amiable and approachable, or withdrawn and difficult to get along with, whether he has a talent for language or a particularly developed motor nerve, he should be a preacher. A pastor, a talk show host, a job as a foreman on a construction site...it's all decided at a very young age.The same goes for a love of shoes, of which I am a prime example.That's what happened:

I think it was when I was about three years old, which is the most annoying age.One day, I accompanied my mother to a well-known "Hal Cafe" in our hometown town for afternoon tea.The café was like a "show place" where all the ladies, young and old, would dress up and get together.Everyone ordered a cup of the shop's signature coffee, and then began to chat about the latest gossip.The children who came with the mothers crawled around between the tables and chairs, picked up the cake crumbs that fell on the ground, and stuffed them into their mouths. It is said that when the "gossip" was about the same that day, my mother was about to go back home, so she asked, "Do you want to go to the toilet again before leaving?"As I said before, it was the age of rebellion.So my mother took my hand, and the two walked towards the bus stop.

Here's how the two of us looked that day: Mom in a short but elegantly cut miniskirt, probably dark blue, and a pair of expensive sandals.I, with my curly hair, wore a fretted pullover and lovely white rubber boots. Seeing that the bus was about to arrive, the child said: "Mommy, I want to pee!" "I can't do it now, wait until I get home!" Temperament: "Didn't I ask you just now? You said no. So you are not allowed to pee now, wait until you get home!" The child continued to insist: "Mommy, I want to pee!" Being a mother is on fire : "Shut up, the bus is coming!" Just as the bus arrived at the stop, the child's urine also arrived!It is entirely out of the psychology of resistance, and the child's stubborn and stubborn personality is fully revealed.Urine ran down the calves and slowly collected in the boots, which became wet and sticky. "Hmph," the child thought to himself, "It's all over now, Mommy, let's see what you do!"

But how can my mother, who has always acted decisively, be threatened by this?With a backhand grab, she dragged the struggling child and boarded the bus in one stride.In the car, the child stepped on the "organic urine boots" made by her, and the urine in the shoes swayed back and forth, left and right, along with the swaying car.As long as you close your eyes and imagine for a while, it is not difficult to experience the feeling that is definitely not comfortable.What's even more embarrassing is that every time the child moves a step, there will be a "puff, puff" sound of treading water under his feet.The passengers in the same car all followed the sound and looked up curiously. The child felt ashamed and wanted to dive into the ground.God, what a shame!

The little owner who wore white rubber boots learned two things from the above-mentioned "sorry" incident.Thirty years have passed, but it is still deeply in my heart. Number one: Wearing inappropriate shoes can ruin an otherwise ideal performance. Second: Handsome and beautiful sandals, just like what my mother wore back then, much better than my pair of plastic boots! But I still like to wear those rubber boots.That's how it started. Since that incident, I can't.Like a drug addict who needs needles to survive, shoes have become an integral part of my daily life.My hometown is not far from Cologne. Whenever someone in the family needs to buy more clothes, most of them will go to the shopping mall in Cologne to buy.Every time I go back to my hometown, I can't help but come to the "Uncle Bill's Children's Clothing Store" in the mall.I ordered a pair of white carved clogs there, very beautiful.I went home with my shoes and put them on as soon as I walked in.These shoes are still preserved by me to this day.If it weren't for the small size (children's shoes size 34), I would definitely take it out and wear it again.And now I can only put it away properly, hoping to pass it on to my daughter one day, I bet she will love it!

Of course, my "shoe addiction" may not be entirely caused by the above-mentioned "rubber boot incident", but because I have a mother who loves shoes, and everything is influenced by her. My mother had a cabinet where all her precious shoes were kept.Also, in the basement are two large round rattan baskets, one for potatoes (something I'm not interested in at all) and the other for old worn out shoes.I can play with those old shoes as I like, and my mother never interferes.But once in a while she would let me play with those treasures in the closet, those beautiful shoes she usually wears on her feet.Wow, that sounds so much better: designer gold leather sandals with silver and copper embroidery; calves; low-heeled sandals with sky blue straps and olive green lace, and so much more...

"Mommy, Mommy, can we play 'Clothes Changing'?" For a little girl, putting on her mother's clothes is the first step towards becoming a "big woman", and the most important lesson is learning how to change clothes. Make your clothes match your shoes perfectly.There is a photo of me and my cousin, Bi Ni, both of whom are about five years old. Bi Ni is wearing the pair of blue buckskin clogs mentioned above, and a blue dress from my mother. I was wearing a pair of yellow denim high-heeled sandals, a windbreaker of the same color, and a hat of the same color on my head. I was dressed in bright yellow, like the bright sunshine in summer.The two little dolls in the photo have exaggerated hairstyles on their heads and bright lipstick on their mouths. They are full of air and look like little women.But only the parties themselves know best, in fact, it is the pair of shoes under our feet that makes us really feel excited and arrogant.Those high heels make us feel great, feel proud, make us grow more than 10 centimeters.

Among my mother's many shoes, my favorite is a pair of high-heeled shoes with four-inch high heels and laces, made by the master Fernando Pensato.Not only is it my favorite, it's also a favorite of its owners.If you don't know what I'm talking about, check out Jil Sander's winter shoe styles, which have exactly the same design as back then.Colors include lively yellow, dazzling white, turkey blue and frog green.I was on the verge of tears when I saw the resurgence of vintage styles in the window of a luxury shoe store in Hamburg. Yes, it is Mr. Fernando Pensato who has designed many shoes that my mother and I can't put down our "feet".He's Italian, I think you can tell by the name.But sorry, that's all I know about him.I have never had the chance to know this master, and I don't even know if he is still alive in this world.However, if he is still alive and happens to read this passage of mine...

Well, isn't it impossible?There will be such a coincidence in the world.Perhaps our old Mr. Pensato is currently enjoying the rest of his life in a luxurious and comfortable nursing home in northern Italy.The old man always likes to squint his eyes and stare at the legs of the nurse in the hospital. As a result, a young nurse who came to help in the hospital without knowing it couldn't see it, and complained to him reproachfully: "It's all about this." I’m old, why are you still staring at the lady’s legs so impolitely?” The old gentleman reached out and patted the nurse’s arm, and said kindly: “Son, I’m not looking at the legs, I’m looking at the shoes. When I was young, I was A designer of shoes. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but my name is Fernando Pensato.” Now it was the turn of the young female nurse to stare at the old gentleman: “What, you are Pensato? The famous Pensato?” Then she turned and hurried back to her attic cabin.When she reappeared in the room, she was holding a book tightly in her hand, which was the one I wrote. "My God, what a coincidence! It turned out to be Mr. Pensato!".Then she opened the book and read a sentence to the old man. Of course, it was translated into Italian at the same time, because we can't expect this master designer to learn German in his later years, right?

The quote that was quoted was: "Mr. Fernando Pensato, you are the king of women's shoes!" Uh, isn't it a little too vulgar to use this sentence to describe an old gentleman? Well then: "Mr. Pensato, you design the most beautiful shoes in the world!" No, it's too uncreative, and there's no emotion at all.another one. "Master Fernando Pensato, my mother once bowed to your feet with all her heart, because all the shoes you designed were worn on her feet!" That's right!Just say it! Maybe Mr. Fenando Pensato is long gone, or maybe he never existed at all, just the name of a company.It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter at all, because his work exists, his designs exist, and they will always be in my heart.

Recently, I "rescued" a pair of Pensato shoes from my mother's shoe closet: blue, leather, cork soles, shoes that I didn't think were beautiful at all when I was a child.It was almost thrown into the trash by my mother because of a small hole in the big toe.I salvaged it and sent it in for repairs.Now, these shoes are back in my shoe cabinet, and I wear them again, running around the world. What is this story trying to tell us?Well, I don't know either.Is it the influence of childhood experience, or the relationship of genetic factors, that will force women to become addicted to certain things involuntarily?I don't know, I really don't know.But I think it doesn't matter much if you don't know, right?