Shoes, glorious shoes, red, orange and flatties!

Shoes. What can I say about shoes that hasn’t already been said, and often better? And usually by Rosered. I love shoes. While I was a poverty stricken university student, I was known to spend my rent on shoes, and then grovel to the landlord, or landlady for extra time to pay.

Back then, I was on first name terms with the owner of the most expensive shoes store in this state’s capital city. He would see me, across the street (the busiest street in the CBD) and call my name to tell me he had a new shipment of Italian or Spanish shoes in. That’s how much time, and money, I spent in his shop, at a time when I had no money (but lots of time)!

I still have some of the shoes I bought then – 25 years ago – as testament to their quality and beauty – and to the fact that I don’t wear heels much anymore. And to the fact that over the years I was willing to spend money to maintain, and re-sole and re-heel them. Some of the shoes I passed on to my step-mother – who still wears them.

I have a weakness for shoes. In the past month I have bought 5 pairs of shoes – you saw photos of 3 pairs on my great day, but yesterday, 2 pairs of Birkis arrived from Germany. They are fun, whimsical and fit perfectly. They are flat. I generally wear flats or very low heels these days. Partly because I live in the country (heels are no good on mud, gravel and puddles). Partly because I am a stay at home mother (heels are no good for picking your way between Lego pieces, dress-up clothes and while emptying potties and wiping up sick, or for pushing strollers). Partly because I have no life, and so, unlike Sarah Jessica Parker, I go nowhere and wear no designer clothes. And partly because I generally wear jeans and jumpers; or capris and t-shirts (depending on the season).

I did weaken 2 years ago and buy these gorgeous bronze bits of nothingness – nothing, that is, except straps and heels. I bought them for a wedding – I’ve worn them twice – but I love them anyway. I made holes in the lawn. It was fun.

I love Rosered’s shoes. Just beautiful, and back when I worked in an office (in the dawn of pre-history) I wore shoes like that.

When we lived in Hong Kong, I used to visit shoe street (between Causeway Bay and Happy Valley racecourse) and there was a stretch of ultra expensive Italian shoe stores, and then a stretch of knock-off stores. You’d grab the owner of your selected knock off store and tow him past the windows of the Italian ones going “I want THAT colour, with THOSE heels, and THAT toe”, and he would have them made for you by next Wednesday. And they would be beautiful and not expensive. I still have the most glorious pair of green snakeskin courts from him. But I never found the perfect pair of orange shoes.

I adore orange shoes and red shoes. I had the most wonderful pair of low Italian orange wedges that I wore and wore until they literally fell to pieces one wet day in Hong Kong. I couldn’t ever get a pair as good, and they were past even using as a pattern. I live in hope of one day finding another pair.

At one stage I had 4 pairs of red shoes. One pair of Italian red leather courts, lined in cream glove leather with high heels (still have them), one pair of leather flats, a bit like highland dancing shoes (fell to bits), one pair of satin ballet type shoes with long laces up the leg and one pair of red boots. These days I have fewer – but can almost always be seduced by gorgeous shoes in lovely colours (I have no discipline).

Despite never wearing pink, I even had a pair of flat pink t bars which I adored and wore to death.

When it comes to shoes, or sock yarn I have the self discipline of a drunken sailor. Speaking of sock yarn, this Marion’s sock yarn I bought on ebay arrived to day – Yum!


I also took the 2 boxes of toys, the ride-on, and a bag of books to the child care centre and sold the combustion stove, its hot water tank and all flue pieces and it’s gone, gone, gone. (Given its size and weight, that has to be worth around 25 normal things) Its removal also means that we regain the use of the back room it was sitting in.

The de-cluttering continues – just call me Imelda.