2 Feb 2013

Shoe Envy.

Something strange has happened to my feet recently. I realised this yesterday as I was limping around London. I’m finding it harder and harder to wear any sort of heel.

Over the summer, I could scamper around town in platforms, Litas, and shoes so high they made my mother wince with no problem. I have laughed at the challenge of heel-less platforms a-la Jeffery Campbell.  And these are no mean feats, because if you’ve been to Lincoln you’d know it’s the city built on cobbled streets.

Recently I’ve been only able to last a few hours in a club before admitting defeat and bringing the emergency flats out, which are a very battered pair of Topshop ballet shoes that have definitely seen better days. My Litas have been abandoned in my car after the last time I wore them I lost the feeling in my toes the entire night. I haven’t dared try to wear them since. And yesterday, wearing a pair of fairly small heeled cowboy boots I think I actually killed my feet. 

By the end of the day I was grumpily standing on a rush hour tube, scowling at a small child that was stood in front of the only empty seat on the train, ignoring her mother’s numerous orders of “sit back down!” Seriously, it should be a social convention that you should give up your seat to girls wearing inappropriate footwear.

I look at the fashion girls on campus who walk around in sky-scraper shoes to and from lecturers and I am mystified. They do not have expressions of never-ending agony on their faces like I would do. They breeze along, like they’re walking on air, whilst I stumble slowly, looking at the nearest bench with desperation.
I look on Lookbook.nu for fashion inspiration, and see girls wearing the biggest shoes I haveve ever encountered, with smiles of their faces instead of grimaces.

I think my new found aversion to anything that lifts my feet off the ground is a result of A) living in my high-tops over Christmas – they’re fur-lined and oh-so-cosy, and B) Driving more than I usually would because I live in the rainiest city in England (that’s an actual fact, I’m not being hyperbolic!) and therefore pretty much wearing flats every day. Once again, I’m blaming winter for skewering my fashion sense. I’ve come to the conclusion that much like birds fly south and hedgehogs hibernate, I revert into a comfort-over-style faze when the sun disappears for the season. Those Uggs are looking more and more tempting every day. 

Summer can’t come fast enough.

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