If the shoe fits, I must be in Oz.

For those of us women who are not blessed with dainty feet like Cinderella, shopping for shoes can be as torturous as having a root canal: you don’t have a lot of choices in the matter and the end result is usually painful.

Unlike my 15-year-old niece who is drawn to the shoe section like a moth to a flame, shoes have never really held much attraction for me. Even as a kid, my loathing for loafers or any other footwear was apparent. While my sister pondered over one pair of shoes after the other, I would grab the first pair off the shelf and be ready to flee - fashion be damned.

This aversion, however, didn’t stop me from making some laughable choices as an adolescent. In the quest for added inches, every young lady has done unspeakable things to their soles in the name of fashion. Remember platform high heels, wooden-soled clogs or earth shoes?

In a moment of temporary insanity I borrowed a friend’s pair of 3-inch wedge shoes only to look like I had raided Herman Munster’s closet. What was I thinking back then? And those heels we wore to prom? Looking back, only Tina Turner could have danced the night away in those elevated instruments of torture.

But then feamles have sacrificed comfort for style dating all the way back to ancient China where women’s feet were bound to achieve the appearance of daintiness and femininity. Today, stilettos and pointy-toe shoes are the modern day equivalent of foot binding. Some women are even considering surgery to alter the shape of their foot to fit into these foolish fashions.

Browsing through Jimmy Choo’s web site featuring swanky footwear coveted by the stars, I was flabbergasted to see pairs of 3-inch high heels selling for over $700. And these were business casual shoes. Talk about pain at a price.

Because I usually don’t have a large variety of footwear to choose from, I tend to pick functionality over high fashion, which comes in handy for my line of work. I couldn’t imagine myself with my notebook in hand, traipsing through a neighborhood that had been devastated by a tornado wearing pointed-toe heels straight from the shoe collection of the wicked witch of the west.

But that’s what broadcast journalists are wearing. These TV Barbie’s are dressed to the nines in their designer clothes and high-priced footwear. But I bet we print journalists could outrun them any day in our sensible shoes.

The Internet has opened a door of opportunity for us wide-footed women looking for comfort and a smidge of style via on-line shoe web sites. It’s so much easier browsing through hundreds of pairs of shoes in the comfort of your home than stalking from one end of the Mall to the other like one of King Arthur’s knights searching for the Holy Grail. And you know how that search turned out.

Much to my surprise, shoe shopping is deemed a social and psychological event among women. My niece and her friends think nothing of spending an hour or more trying on shoes together. And if your husband buys a power tool, bringing home three new pairs of shoes will even the score.

Shopping for shoes has become a competitive sport for some footwear fashionistas. Just like men looking forward to opening day of deer season, these shoe addicts vigilantly watch the sales flyers for the unveiling of the season’s new line of shoes. With a gleam in their eye, they jump into the car on ‘opening day’ eager to begin the hunt for a new pair of shoes.

As I watch my well-heeled friends show off their latest fashionable footwear conquest, the 26 bones and 35 joints in my feet silently thank me for my down-to-earth collection of footwear in my closet where you won’t find a single pair of ruby or glass slippers. But my feet and I are okay with that.