*because it is opportunity for me to talk about my not so great looking feet.
So winter in London has finally made up it’s cold cold mind. November began all clear blue
skies, sunny-delight-bright and warm-ish weather like but then mid November arrived reminding us what time it really was (winter-time). I guess it probably would make appropriate sense to discuss appropriate winter attire like coats or knitwear or boots or something but I am not going to do that. Instead I want to talk about sandals for no other reason other than because I want to. Here goes:
So I like me a sandal and by that I prefer it to be the 4 inch high and always a stiletto (never block) heel kind. There are a few exceptions to this preference but let me not digress. When it comes to the actual style+body of said heeled sandal - I am pretty particular. Really particular in fact. All because years and years of wearing the incorrect shoe size has left me with some pretty messed up (looking) toes. I emphasise the looking part because aesthetics aside they are in good working condition with all 10 toe nails still in tact. So I guess they could be worse (and tbh I have seen worst) but how I managed to allow corns to form/develop/grow on 7 of the 10 toes God blessed me with is something I am left to figure out and deal with for the rest of my entire adult life. And by 'deal' I mean accepting that I can never ever ever allow my feet to be [publicly] seen in anything overly open toed and most certainly anything peekaboo plastic nor see-through nor transparent. Such is my life.
Time and embarrassment does not permit me to go into detail over why my toes are like so but just know that as cool and chic and effortless as the barely there strappy heel trend is [as made a thing in 2018 thanks to The Row, (old)Céline and Amelia Studio] sadly, it is a trend that my feet will not be partaking in. Once again: such is my life.
*imagery courtesy of Instagram.