No longer as truthful as should be deserved, some names, places and events deliberately vague to protect identities that aren't mine

Saturday, 5 June 2010

What? No card from the Queen?

So this is my 100th post, it should of course have something wise and humble and inspired in it.

Instead, I'm going to talk about shoes.  And you're going to read.  'Cause you have nothing better to do with your life.

I walk funny.  Always have done.  And don't know *how* I walk funny, I just know, and have been told repeatedly, that I do.  I remember my parents telling me to walk properly when I was 4.  "I am"  "No you're not, walk like me"  *cue confused look as I swear my parents are doing what I was just doing*  *try to copy parents*  "No you're still doing it!"

It's clearly just something I picked up funny as a baby, and is ingrained in me, and you can't swap feet with someone to see what theirs do - medical technology isn't that advanced yet.  It's not that bad.  It still works, I still move forward under my own steam, and in fact I walk a damn sight faster than most people of the world, despite being half their size.  I don't have weak ankles or some pediastric deficiency as a result, so I'm not really that bothered by this apparent quirk of my step.

Except where shoes are concerned.  And socks actually.  Whatever I do with the way I walk - I assume I put pressure where normal people don't, or I twist my feet in some way, or I step in a different path to the rest of the world - it means I wear through shoes very very quickly.  I'm not a big gay for shoes.  I only ever really have one pair of shoes.  Sometimes I have a second formal pair too, but at the moment I've lost those.  My current pair of shoes I bought 3 months ago.  They already have holes in them.  Once upon a time, I bought a very nice pair of Dolce & Gabanna shoes, they were lovely, but cost me £120 - By the end of two months ago they had fallen apart.  And I wear shoes right through till they're not shoes anymore.  It's not a case of one hole and I get new ones.  My current shoes, I bought because my old shoes had effectively turned into sandals, the holes were that big and went all the way through, both on the top, and on the undersole.  And I was walking around a rainy, wet Amsterdam in the middle of February.

So yeah, I get through shoes ludicrously quickly.  And I also get through socks ludicrously quickly.  Curiously enough though, the holes in my socks don't match up with the holes in my shoes.  I can put on a brand new pair of socks, with freshly cut toe nails, and by the end of the day they'll have 2 holes in.  Thank god for Primark.  Between this and the washing machine odd sock gremlins I have to buy at least 6 new pairs every month.

Unfortunately, I can rarely wear the £5 shoes.  a) I don't like them, and b) due to my parents genetic baking, I have a very broad toe width, combined with an extremely low ankle bone.  Formal shoes, which are generally quite rigid leather, are a bitch for me, they either press painfully at the front sides of my foot, or cut into my ankle.  And I mean cut.  Down to the bone.  I speak from experience.  Blisters if I'm lucky.  Trainers are easier, as they are generally made of fabric, especially with current fashion, but even still, there's generally 2 styles of shoe in any given shop that will actually fit my feet, and both will be hideously ugly.  Cheap shoes are made for people with standard bodies so I'm forced to buy decent shoes which tend to have a bit more variety, but cost £40 every few months, on top of the £5 worth of new socks each month. Primark make clothes for standard size people too, hence why I shop in the girl's section, except for socks.  I can be a man where socks are concerned.

1 comment:

  1. You are not alone. As a result of my well documented inability to wear normal shoes, a foot professional in a pub once spontaneously volunteered the information that my instep was "fucked" (said pro was quite drunk, possibly not pro at all but still this has haunted me). Evidently also walk funny given the fact that I somehow manage to wear my heels down diagonally-not the foggiest how this is achieved. Do not suffer the same affliction with holey socks but very much recognise the gift to the world that is Primark in this respect (so cheap! So soft!). Still loving the blog (I got lazy as life got complicated), keep up the good work.