Kinky Boots.

This morning’s snow forced me to take action: I went to town to buy some boots.

When I say I went to town, I don’t mean it in a ‘pushing the boat out’ sense. This will be clear when I tell you I bought my new pair for Shoe Zone. We have a history (see here and here for evidence). Based on this track record, I’m fully aware that anything I get there will be lucky to make it from the till to the shop door intact. You should never skimp on quality.

I see these boots as a stopgap until I get something better. I’ve spent the last six months wearing my wedding shoes constantly (well, whenever I leave the house). This isn’t out of superstition. They don’t hold the same significance as my ring. It’s for security. The last time I wore a different pair, I fell over. On stage, no less. Watch the clip and marvel in my gracefulness. 



Being in a shoe shop makes me feel awkward. It’s not my natural habitat. Everything I do takes too long. My fingers grapple uselessly with my laces. I lose all sense of taste (in a fashion sense). I can’t even tell what feels comfortable. Anything I leave with is bought out of panic. That’s why I own those stilettos, I promise.  

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