This Lent challenge has provoked me to do something that I have been meaning to do for three years! THREE YEARS! How’s that for procrastination. It’s not even that exciting. In fact I’d go so far as to say that it’s entirely underwhelming. It is most certainly a #FirstWorldProblem and a shocking example of my laziness.
Three years ago I went shopping in Glasgow and something wholly predictable happened. I was sidetracked by a shoe sale in non other than Aldo. At the time, I was working in an outdoors sports store which rather hampered any efforts to be glamorous. Khaki trousers and polo shirt uniforms ruled the roost, factor in 8 hours of standing on ones feet and you can euthanise any thoughts of circumnavigating ‘Tom Boy Chic’ by wearing pretty footwear.
Despite these obvious set backs to my desired glamorous lifestyle, it was not going to stop me from living in a dream world. Every now and again I would indulge myself by buying ridiculously gorgeous shoes and having no occasion to wear them. Should a suitable circumstance to extract them from their box rear its head, I would be so out of practice that walking in them would more closely resemble Bambi, rather than Karlie ‘The Panther’ Kloss.
Behold a blurred and rushed photo of the shoes that I haven’t worn for 3 years (taken at 6am this morning with a hairbrush stuck in my hair):
What made me love these shoes can be directly attributed to what made them completely unworkable, and it was their big angular collar at the ankle. When I buy something plain, it has to be just the right level of plain. People think that plain and boring go hand in hand, but not so! A simple bit of detailing, like the collar on these shoes, elevates them from ‘same old same old’ to classic yet quirky glamour.
Unfortunately, their downfall is the fact that the collar means that they slip at the heel on both feet, there is not enough pinch at my Achilles, and the height of the heel rather throws the foot forward, offering even less grip.
I did wear them once, on a dinner date with ES early on in our relationship. I was reduced from my usual striding pace to stupid fairy steps. We had arrived relatively on time for our meal, a first for ES, but by the time I’d made it from the car to the table we were around 10 minutes late, and we had only travelled 200m.
I hate it when I can’t walk in my shoes. I feel incredibly conspicuous and very small and silly all at the same time. The very things that are meant to make me feel like Queen of the Glamazons instead reduce me to a fumbling, skittish mess.
So, faced with 40 days of not being able to go shopping, and rapidly running out of things that I haven’t worn recently, I did the unthinkable. I bought some heel grips for £2.29. Suddenly, the shoes that had not seen daylight for 3 years were now the crowning glory of my wardrobe. I could stride, I could saunter, I could pick any gait I wanted that began with S!
“Excellent!” I thought to myself, I now have a whole new pair of shoes to add to my wardrobe without buying a new pair. How novel! How different my wardrobe will look! Oh wait… these are technically my third pair of ‘plain’ black court shoes. A wardrobe staple and fashion classic of course, but they’re hardly going to start a riot.
What I can take from this is that these look incredible with sheer tights or bare legs ( that extra detail holds sway over my two other pairs of shoes for this purpose, but given that Aberdeen just suffered heavy snowfall and I’m not a masochist, bare pins will have to wait). Black tights rather obscures the lovely detail at the ankle so the best way to show them off would be to get out my nude tights and… oh wait… my last pair got a hole… and technically I shouldn’t buy any until after 30th March. Oh well, there goes that ray of happiness…