My Clarks Wallabees died. I bought them at the Mall of America during my sophomore year of college, and they served as my nice, dress-up shoes through two newspaper internships, a crappy job in France, and about a dozen office jobs. They made the trek over those nearly 10 years on one pair of laces, though the insoles began to curl around my feet a few years ago. About a year ago, the soles reached a point in their wear that they would become very sticky on indoor tile if I walked through a puddle. Walking through the office on a rain day felt like I was wearing crampons, and the sickly sound it made peeling off the tile drew negative attention. I think people began to notice how much time I spent hanging out in the office kitchen, so I had to retire my well worn Clarks.
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