I was almost 14 when I was finally allowed to buy shoes for myself. I came home with my first pair of high-heeled black leather boots. A year later, I used my first ever hard-earned cash working long hours in a supermarket during my summer holidays to finance the acquisition of an even higher-heeled pair of pointy red ones - and I've never looked back since.
Last Saturday, while on my way to pick and choose a carpet for Dad's new abode, I passed a tiny little boutique and caught sight of some boots in the back of the shop, which I liked the look of immediately but had no time to investigate further; and besides, I was still on this self-imposed economy drive of mine. But I couldn't forget about them. So yesterday, I went back to that shop...and nearly had an apoplexy when I couldn't spot them anywhere. The sales person came out and after hearing my description of the boots I thought I'd seen a few days earlier, nodded and said she thought she still had two or three pair in the back. She came back with two, and showed them to me. Yes, they were the ones I'd been dreaming about. Very thin stilleto heels, knee-high, calf-hugging black leather very pointy boots with white embroidery in a spiral or curly-wurly pattern covering them all over. I jumped for joy...until she read out the sizes. She had one pair 2 sizes too small, and the other 1 size too big. My face fell, and I was readying myself to walk out of the shop and drown my disappointment in a cuppa in the tearoom next door, when she spoke the magic words: "The smaller size really isn't that small...why don't you try them and if they 'fit', I'll give you a 20% discount!"
I jammed my foot in there -they pinched, but not too badly-, but couldn't close the zipper over the last bit of my calf. Cursing my shapely legs, I prepared to leave once more, until I thought 'nothing ventured, nothing gained' and tried on the too big pair. OK - they were too big, but nothing a pair of socks and half a pack of cotton wool wouldn't solve...and they did allow me to do up the zipper entirely. Besides, if I bought them too big, I wouldn't have to break them in first...I asked if she'd give me a discount on this pair too, seeing as how I had to have some kind of compensation at least for being willing to walk around in Coco the Clown-shoes, and she laughed and gave me the same 20% off she'd promised me for the smaller pair.
When I got home and looked in the mirror, I started to think maybe she was right and my legs did take on a sheer endless quality, but my feet looked absolutely huge in them and I questioned the wisdom of my decision. I had, after all, through sheer greed, parted with a large wad of cash. Feeling guilty, I changed and went to meet my colleagues for a 'team dinner'.
So while getting sloshed on sake (we were in a Japanese restaurant), I regaled them to the story of my latest acquisition, and answered truthfully that yes they definitely are of the come fuck me-category, or would be if they hadn't been so big, and then promised to wear them to work today so they could all see for themselves.
I came in in a miniskirt this morning, the better for them to see my marvelous but too big boots, and they all went speechless, then started whistling and applauding and kissing me and assuring me that these are the most beautiful in my collection yet, and worth every bit of money I laid out. Men and women alike, they all like them, and I feel so much better now.
And before you say anything: yes, I'm very well aware of the fact that I'm shallow in the extreme.