Stylish people of the whole wide world, I have a confession.
Somewhere this summer, possibly in Somerset, a switch flicked in my head.
I have long been a wearer of comfortable shoes. I don’t do proper heels and have a dodgy foot, so I find a brand of comfy shoes and stick with it. That’s not to say I don’t have lots of shoes that have been experiments, or that may get worn again eventually, once, but generally I’m not a shoe person.
Even so, I have always resisted the lure of brightly coloured plastic ‘shoes’. Why would I want to look like I have clown shoes on my feet? My legs are stumpy enough, those things would only emphasise that. How can I pretend to have long, lean legs if there are big bright blobs drawing attention to where they end?
During the heat of July, Girl2 struggled with her footwear. Everything cut or rubbed her bare feet. I found an unexpected solution in the ugly plastic things. No more moans, cuts or blisters. Her feet are the same size as mine; I discovered the comfort.
A little niggle started in the back of my mind. Caravan. Beaches. Walking. Where nobody could see me.
Yes, yes I did.
Feel free to scoff. I’m in Donegal and can’t hear you.