From maybe the age of four, I have been an active obsessor of shoes. It sounds ridiculous; it's not exactly a lifetime ago since I was four, and it isn't normal for a toddler to have a certain taste when it comes to what goes on her feet, but I'm pretty sure I knew what I liked (on my feet) early on. I can tell you that I had a pair of silver heels, a christmas gift that I completely adored. I also had a pair of school shoes from Ravel, a shop now long gone, that had slight wedges on them. I am not sure how I got away with those in primary school but I promise you I wore those shoes to death, until the wedge pretty much became a flat.
Today, I have many pairs of shoes that spend more time in boxes than on my feet, but I prefer to call it the sensible preservation of beautiful items. The more well-kept they are, the nicer they look when I occasionally break them out for the odd party or family event. The majority of said shoes are heels, in the form of strappy sandals, mules and courts, and each pair is like a beloved child to me. They mark important but recent parts of my life and each different pair reminds me of why I bought them in the first place. Usually a memory as simple as finding the last pair in the sale for almost 80% off can lift my spirits. Therefore, I see no reason to get rid of any one of them.
Having watched all six seasons of Sex and the City about three times, as well as the two so-bad-they're-good films, I feel as though the series is embedded into my teenage-hood as an important part of becoming an adult. It has taught me about the value of friendship and, among some of the more taboo subjects, the shameless love of a good shoe. Although I had heard of Manolo Blahnik before watching, I hadn't realised just how paramount a moment it was for a girl to buy her first pair. At the moment, I am yet to own any, but I am working on it and I think if Carrie Bradshaw had had access to TheRealReal back then, she definitely would've had less trouble prioritising between paying for shoes or rent.
In a way this is almost like a thank-you letter to a fictional character, because I feel as though Carrie made me look at growing up and being a woman from a new point of view. Granted she had numerous messy relationships that aren't so promising, but she still stands as an icon of aspiration as she combines her love for both men and shoes into her work, allowing her to then buy more shoes and splurge on mid-day cocktails with her friends.
And if that is not the circle of life, then I don't know what is.
G.
Image: Twitter
Image: Twitter
From maybe the age of four, I have been an active obsessor of shoes. It sounds ridiculous; it's not exactly a lifetime ago since I was four, and it isn't normal for a toddler to have a certain taste when it comes to what goes on her feet, but I'm pretty sure I knew what I liked (on my feet) early on. I can tell you that I had a pair of silver heels, a christmas gift that I completely adored. I also had a pair of school shoes from Ravel, a shop now long gone, that had slight wedges on them. I am not sure how I got away with those in primary school but I promise you I wore those shoes to death, until the wedge pretty much became a flat.
Today, I have many pairs of shoes that spend more time in boxes than on my feet, but I prefer to call it the sensible preservation of beautiful items. The more well-kept they are, the nicer they look when I occasionally break them out for the odd party or family event. The majority of said shoes are heels, in the form of strappy sandals, mules and courts, and each pair is like a beloved child to me. They mark important but recent parts of my life and each different pair reminds me of why I bought them in the first place. Usually a memory as simple as finding the last pair in the sale for almost 80% off can lift my spirits. Therefore, I see no reason to get rid of any one of them.
Having watched all six seasons of Sex and the City about three times, as well as the two so-bad-they're-good films, I feel as though the series is embedded into my teenage-hood as an important part of becoming an adult. It has taught me about the value of friendship and, among some of the more taboo subjects, the shameless love of a good shoe. Although I had heard of Manolo Blahnik before watching, I hadn't realised just how paramount a moment it was for a girl to buy her first pair. At the moment, I am yet to own any, but I am working on it and I think if Carrie Bradshaw had had access to TheRealReal back then, she definitely would've had less trouble prioritising between paying for shoes or rent.
In a way this is almost like a thank-you letter to a fictional character, because I feel as though Carrie made me look at growing up and being a woman from a new point of view. Granted she had numerous messy relationships that aren't so promising, but she still stands as an icon of aspiration as she combines her love for both men and shoes into her work, allowing her to then buy more shoes and splurge on mid-day cocktails with her friends.
And if that is not the circle of life, then I don't know what is.
G.
Image: Twitter
Image: Twitter
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