Today I am going to experience one of those days which makes me out to be a man, rather than a woman.
For it is the day that I begrudgingly have to wear a new pair of shoes.
For a woman, it seems that getting a new pair of shoes is like the thing that they have strived all their life to achieve, it is like a magical moment, like when as a child you went to EuroDisney – or so it seems to me.
For me, however, it is the day when I finally accept that my trusted shoes that have kept my feet warm and dry for day after day, and fit so well, no longer can have a place in my life, for they have come to the point where they are now making my life worse.
In this case, a big rip in the leather on the side. Irrepairable. Almost tear-inducing.
Luckily for me, I bought a new pair of shoes last November, when I first realised that I needed a new pair of shoes as I was regularly getting wet feet. However thanks to the drought, I have seldomly been caught in rain with shoes on since November.
But a big rip in the side doesn’t really look good. Not that men look at shoes. But women do, so I am told.
So here I am, suffering in my new shoes, and they are fairly ugly shoes too, I have no idea why I bought them, but they will do for work. I hope they last two years. Most shoes last me 3-6 months.
The only shoes that I see that I like the look of, cost in excess of £100 and no way am I purchasing something of that expense, when I have no idea whether they will last 3 months or 2 years.
So today is a sad and painful day.
If I were a woman, I suspect today would be an exciting day…though I guess wouldn’t have waited since November to wear them for the first time so today would not have been an exciting day. Unless I had bought a pair of shoes last night that I didn’t really need.