Confessions of a reformed nelipot

It’s common knowledge that every girl is obsessed with shoes. Love 'em, we do. XX chromosomes come packaged with chocolate addiction, an inability to follow maps, multitasking mania and an idea of heaven resembling a warehouse full of Manolo Blahniks. Just as that little Y chromosome automatically gifts its owner with DIY skills, a passion for football and an inability to remember birthdays.

Pardon me while I laugh myself sick. Phew. That was fun.

Right, so back in the real world, I am a girl (pretty sure), I have feet (two of them), I like to look good, and Beloved would say I love shoes. He would say I have too many of them. He would say shoe shopping is a treat for me. He would be so very wrong.

Shoes fall into the “necessary evil” category. Not being a student any longer, and living as I now do in a rather wet climate, barefoot is not the attractive option it once was. Vanity is also catching up with me, rather belatedly, in the matter of my hopelessly calloused soles. I’m starting to see the point of pedicures, and to wish my tootsies could be as soft and pink as Beloved’s, but alas, those days are past. So, I wear shoes. And yes, I have more pairs than the average chap; and yes, I spend more time and effort (but not necessarily cash) on choosing them than said Mr Average. But, honestly, it’s not fun.

The thing is this: men have it easy. Trousers make it easy. Also, no decision on heel height is required. Also, the male wardrobe generally covers a more limited palette. So men get to say smugly that four pairs is plenty, as witnessed in Petite’s comments. Women, though, have to contend with an enormous range of styles, heights, colours, and levels of durability. And try to figure out how they all work with the rest of her wardrobe. It’s tougher than you might think, especially since for some occasions – a smart party, say – flat shoes are almost never acceptable. And some women have particular difficulties.

Hypothetically, for instance, if you were a tall and not particularly willowy lass, with rather sweaty feet, you would not want to wear little strappy high heeled sandals, however cute they might look, and however super fantastic Manolo might label them. Because your feet would slip all over and the straps would dig into your flesh and break and your toes would stick out at funny angles and your skin would bulge red and purple between the straps and anyway, sticking teeny little pointy shoes under a more curvaceous style of physique would look pretty damn ridiculous.

Hypothetically.

So these, then, are my shoes.

How many pairs?

• One pair of cheap trainers for gym*.
• One pair of cheap and cheerful red trainer-type shoes, now falling apart on the inside; replacement urgently needed.
• One pair black ankle boots.
• One pair brown ankle boots.
• One pair maroon ankle boots.
• One pair Land Rover walking boots. (I just love that name.)
• One pair silver high heeled evening shoes.
• One pair adorable retro-style red heels with peekaboo toes and ankle strap. Best shoe buy ever. Of course, they hurt like hell, but who cares when they look so damn cute?**
• One pair cream canvas wedges. Incredibly comfortable right up until the second when they’re unbearable. Weird.
• One pair sexy black strappy wedges.
• One pair floppy red suede high-heeled boots with criss-crossing straps.
• One pair brown suede knee-high boots, with high heels and lovely purple and turquoise embroidery. These last two pairs were bought on sale, because I wouldn’t dare pay full price for suede shoes in rainy London, but they have survived two wet and muddy winters miraculously well.
• One pair beaded brown/turquoise/purple slip-on sandals. Flat. Lovely.
• One pair purple flipflops, for gardening only.

Right, unless I’m forgetting something, that’s the lot. 14 pairs. Clearly, I’ll be in urgent need of things like knee-high black boots by the time winter rolls around (my last pair died), but as of today, that’s the lot.

Most expensive pair

Um, £60 for the maroon ankle boots. The dead black knee boots cost £90. But they’re dead. I plan to pay more for my next pair.

Cheapest

Apart from the £9 flipflops? Probably the canvas wedges – I think they were about £15. Otherwise, the red suede boots were on sale at £20. Bargain.

Last shoes bought

The sexy black wedges. I love them even though they’re half a size too big. Because I went shopping in the afternoon of a stinking hot day, so my feet were half a size bigger than normal. Stoopid.

How many shoes under your work desk

Right now, those same sexy black wedges***. Because old habits die hard, so I kick them off and wander barefoot around the office. You can’t take me anywhere…

So how about you? Follow my example; don’t wait to be tagged, just pipe up. You either have a burning desire to discuss shoes, or you don’t. Who’s playing?
_____
* I know, it’s supposed to be a terrible sin against your body to run in cheap shoes. But I hate spending money on expensive brands of trainers. It offends me. And these are comfy. So there.
** If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll put up a photo when I’m at home. This is all coming from memory.
*** Normally, none. I don’t do the comfy shoes to work, smart shoes at work thing. Obviously.