Shoes to die in

I’m getting ready for a do.

I’m looking forward to dressing up. There was a time when almost everyday was a dress up day but I don’t enjoy it so much any more or I don’t have the inclination, or is it that I just don’t care? I can’t quite say. It’s why I have a multitude of nice, dark dresses. I can sling any one of them on and know I’ll look appropriately low vis for work.

I find this thought free dressing sad sometimes but mostly I just think, sod it. I’m sure this, not giving a damn, is age related.

I worry that the purchase of the ugly rain coat last month was the thin end of the wedge, the first step to a truly middle aged wardrobe. I’ve just bought the ugliest shoes I’ve ever owned and I blame the coat. I wore the shoes for the first time yesterday and they are so incredibly comfortable that I may never take them off. Saucy and Cornflake don’t think they’re all that bad. Saucy says they’re more invisible than ugly. She’s wrong I’m afraid. It’s hard to ignore shoes as they’re right there on the end of your legs, easily within ones peripheral vision. It’s the reason I have happily sunk £££££s into my shoe collection over the years. By the same token I’m not much fussed by earrings as I don’t get to see them.

I’ve seen movies where the dead in their afterlife, wear for eternity the outfit they were wearing when they died. On the off chance that this is the case and assuming your feet don’t hurt after death, I’ll aim to die on my way to or from an event, dressed up, wearing heels, one of my pairs of Manolo’s perhaps, not one of my pairs of Fitflops.

I would hate to spend eternity in sensible shoes and an efficient rain coat, but then again, perhaps death would take ‘sod it’ to another level and dead me really wouldn’t care.

I need to get a grip and stop thinking about it, I don’t even believe in life after death.