Showing posts with label shoes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shoes. Show all posts

Thursday, January 21, 2010

The Invasion of the Cane Toes



How many is too many pairs of shoes? Clearly, shoes for casual, shoes for work, shoes for dinner and shoes for walking. When it is so easy for men to get away with three pairs of shoes why do women feel the need to buy more? At the demise of the pointy toe my mangled toes all breathed a collective sigh of relief. As they are now all leaning into each other at such an angle, they have formed a very close relationship from years of being bound into points so sharp you could slice tomatoes with them. The welcomed return of the round toe was short lived to the current trend of heels so high they require a planning permit. When will we learn! Stripper heals as they are so affectionately called may be the personal protective equipment of the exotic dancing industry but there seems to be no fireman's poles I feel the need to dance with. So therefore the rows of chiropractic superannuation shoes leave me left with the granny flats and shoes with Velcros straps that can only be described as vegetarian. Australian made stylish court shoes are a rarity and the rubber thong continues it march southward through the wardrobes of Australia like the cane toad. And probably just as toxic. Apparently if you lick them you can hallucinate!!

Monday, May 18, 2009

He wished he was somewhere else



I wish for feet these days more than shoes. After years of stiletto wearing and points that were so sharp you could slice tomatoes with them, I am now paying the price. I'm heading towards the slippery slope of comfortable shoe land. My early shoe wearing days of patent leather came with the warning that boys could see up your skirt in their reflection has long been replaced by the now sensible, round toe shoe buying which is a mere, gathered at the ankle, half stocking away from hush puppy hell. Department stores offer little variety between skyscraper heels which say shag me but don't expect me to walk anywhere, or rubber soles guaranteed not to squeak on the linoleum in the nursing home. I'll keep looking, or maybe I'll sever a toe off - that might help!