I bought my first pair of heels in about four years this week.
(Except for this one time before Amanda's farewell at Hugo's in King's Cross where I was worried I wouldn't be let in so I bought a stupid pair of heels from Target but I refused to put them on so as to fly in the face of pretension and I got in with my old cons and my paint stained jeans anyway. But that doesn't count. I've never worn those heels and it was a most regrettable purchase.)
I found them in Newtown. In a clothing boutique. In the dressing room. They were in fact, the communal heels. They fit my size 9 feet without drawing attention to the fact that they are size 9 feet and are ridiculously comfortable. I pleaded my case and took the shoes home for $15 and was implored to disinfect.
This story could say several things about me.
[A] I am the queen of bargain hunting
[B] I am in need of elementatry lessons on personal hygiene
[C] Probably, a combination of both
