So, I saw them in the sale and obviously I snapped them up. Well, I say snapped them up but that’s not strictly true; of course there was more drama involved than that. I tried them on (I know, I should’ve done this long ago) but unfortunately I was on my own which means I couldn’t walk far enough to test them (I hate walking around testing shoes when I’m on my own – I need the boy there to bounce off). So I told the man that they felt much higher than I had expected and that I didn’t think I’d be able to walk in them, took them off and ran away.

You know what happens next. I couldn’t.stop.thinking.about.them. All day and night long. And I knew there was only one pair left in my size. There was only one thing for it: a first-thing-in-the-morning-job. When I walked back into the shop, the first person I saw was the man who had helped me the day before. He laughed, I laughed and then the conversation went like this (without any hellos or pleasantries but with a mutual understanding that I needed the shoes):

Shop man: “Size 6?!”
Bashful Me: “Yes, please.”
Man: “Do you want to try them on again?”
Me: “…No, thanks.”
(Interlude while man goes to get other shoe…)
Man: “Weren’t they too high yesterday?”
Me: “Yes. But…. I couldn’t stop thinking about them.”
Man: (Laughs) “Well, you’ll learn – lots of practice!”

And that was that. Simple. And the shoes are mine. The boy thinks I look like one of the Spice Girls in them (I’m rolling my eyes) but I think they are the cutest ever; cute in the way only a wedge/shoelace combination can provide. And I can totally walk in them. Like, I may even be brave enough to wear them somewhere other than my flat and the balcony. I will include a photo below (I hate that I’m being drawn into the hipstamatic iPhone craze, but it sure does the shoes justice).

I’m off now, to wear the shoes whilst listening to the Toots. Hope you elusive readers have jolly good Fridays. Ta ra!