Just bought a wee pair of gray canvas Zu’s for 65% off. THRIFTY AS.

So amidst an epic battle with a poorly written exam (or poorly human attempting to sit it) and a disgustingly deadly virus (yes, deadly) I went for a little shop. A little shoe shop in fact.

Shoes.

I used to pride myself on being way too un-girlie to dig shoes. Mmmm. I’ve always loved a gnarly pair of kicks. oh yes. But that is not necessarily an overly feminine fetish. So no reputation worries. My head would always get pulled back around a nice 90 degree angle to check the latest delectable high tops of any variety. I would claw at the window like a fat dog outside a sausage shop.  Similar amounts of slobber too.

I’ve recently completed my first year of high top purchasing with the big 3: Nike, Adidas and Puma. High five me or something. My second year will hopefully bring many more and the branching out to Reebok and New Balance; I hear good things. I’m willing to try the both- “expanding horizons” is always a noble challenge. The lowest point of my High Top career was a realisation at the Rose Market Hip Hop Swap Meet that extremely awesome, rare kicks come in women’s Size 7 99% of the time. Curse you Size 8 lower limb extremities.  I recovered after finding out that I get 35% off all Nike shoes with my new job. Excellent.

Unfortunately though, I am not here to merely tell of the splendour of a sneaker. I am here to tell you that I’ve recently become aware that my heart is softening. Shoes are rad. All of them. Heels are the shiz.  NO! I cannot like them! It feels so wrong... but oh so right. Am I, Am I.... a Lady?  Thanks to watching the Sex in the City Movie- which I recommend you ONLY watch on a plane- unless you want any naive nature you owned to leave you.., I’ve learned that a female shoe is a marvellous thing. Sandals, flats, boots, gladiators, heels, brogues.  As I wander slowly past Giallo, Zomp, Shag and now the rock & roll of London Rebel, I now know I am truly coming of age. I want to GO IN. I want to BUY. I think about which colour needs to next invade the bottom of my wardrobe. I think about EBAY and wonder if it’s scummy to get vintage suede peep toe heels online. (As I write that sentence I realise-NO IT’S NOT and I’ll just quickly pull up another window and enter EBAY NOW) I think about how lucky I am not to be 6ft and can therefore wear gigantor heels without looking totally naff.

This new little bud is slowly emerging. Shy and timid it wills to be nurtured and grow stronger. I don’t think I can tell all my friends yet. Please respect my wishes. In due time the world will know. Til then I’ll stick with ghetto rubber-soled kid by day. Bedroom heel strutter at night.