I love shoes. More specifically, I love shoes that have dangerously high heels, shoes I have no hope in hell of being able to walk in. I think I shall forever live in hope that one day I’ll wake up and have magically mastered the art of walking in heels, but in reality, I just can’t do it. But a girl can dream, right?
Suede wedges have been everywhere recently, and I’ve wanted a pair ever since I saw an Olsen twin/Alexa Chung/some other forgettable fashion face wear them glamorously and effortlessly.
I saw the most beautiful pair in Office today, behold:
I REALLY wanted them. I wanted to swan about like an Olsen twin, all tall and imposing, dressing like a granny and drinking Starbucks. And these are most definitely The Shoes to do that in, right?
So I put them on and walked around – I was a bit unsteady, sure, but my feet looked beautiful. BEAUTIFUL.
I gawped in the mirror at the vision at the bottom of my legs, I gained probably a bit too much confidence and strutted over to another mirror. Brilliant! I had found THE SHOES. Then suddenly, seemingly almost in slow motion, I started to fall. And you know when you just can’t stop yourself? There was suddenly nothing around to grab on to, nothing to break my fall, and BANG down I went, hitting my knees and my hands on Office’s cold, hard floor, and it was all I could do not to burst out crying like the little child I really am.
I wanted to look like GaGa doing what she does best, wearing ridiculous shoes like it’s normal, and instead I got this:
As well as looking like an idiot, I now have incredibly painful knees and walk with a limp. Sexy.
If you can rock those wedges, than please do. I’ll continue to stare wistfully at the grown up girls that can actually walk in such monsters, and stick with brogues this season. Sob.