Saturday, September 24, 2005

a woman's right to shoes

it’s that icky summer/autumn crossover point again and I’m left desperately searching for a comfortable yet fantastic pair of shoes to see me through the season. unfortunately, where as previously my choices have been wider due to the fact that, being at university, i only had myself to please, i suddenly have to confirm to a work-place dress code where trainers are unacceptable and biker boots a little, well…. rough, i suppose.

although i do have a little bit more money now, i still feel guilty splashing out on new shoes. i hate wearing heels outside, i find them uncomfortable and unstable – unless they are heavy duty slut-platforms, which, i doubt is deemed appropriate office wear.

thankfully, there is one company i can always rely on to answers my shoe dreams – even though the only pair i own is so painful they draw blood across my ankles. irregular choice. i’m writing this post, because i’m thinking about buying a new pair – a kind of ska two-tone zebra-print ballet pump – if you can imagine such a thing. they make me feel cool as a cucumber – something between a sexy gum-popping night owl and a saucy 1950’s waitress with rhinestone pink sunglasses. they are completely unnecessary and not cheap! i know i really shouldn’t buy them and yet i still desperately want them….

shoes hold a unique, cinderella-esque power for so many women i know.
like little sculptural works of art, it is often the case that the more beautiful they are, the more impractical and painful they necessarily are too. but, when buying them, the sacrifice seems momentarily worthwhile, as they appear to have magical transformative powers. each proverbial glass slipper has something different to offer, or more thrillingly, can make me over into a different person.

my cranberry red dolly shoes with dusty pink suede bows make me feel somewhere between dorothy in the wizard of oz and doris day. my massively high round-toed brown platforms make me feel like a saucy 1960s secretary, where as my lower, black ankle-strap round-toes with the beige bow make me feel like a demure, ladylike 1960s secretary. i had a pair of gold spiked sandals with a clear plastic heel that made me feel like a tawdry bond girl – but i threw them out as they were far too gutsy for me to carry off. i have black corded pointy-toe heels that make me feel like a ball-breaking career girl, even though i’m a wishy-washy wimp who wants to work in “the arts”, whatever that is. my doc martens make me feel 17. i got asked to be in a band when I was wearing my biker boots, which, even have pockets for my lighters. my converse make me feel happy.

i truly believe the 2-tone ska-style pumps would make me feel cool.

but i guess there are some things even shoes cannot change….

so i suppose you can all breathe a sigh of relief now i’ve made my mind up…

although, i could use some slouchy calf-boots, perhaps in worn black leather


At 06 October, 2006 20:31 , Blogger darling vicarage said...

i feel compelled to tell you all that i have indeed got a pair of black leather slouchy boots now - and it only took a year or so.


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