Girl’s Guide to DIY – The Soleful Edition

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The shoes? Those torture devices with their towering, sky high heels that I had to shove my hooves into for an entire day in order to look respectable and girly enough to hang out with the upper crust a week and a half ago? And which I've lamented about just a few days ago? They redeemed themselves just now.

But before I tell you how, I just have to say that I’m not a shoe girl. I’ve never understood other women’s sometimes feverish, obsessive love for shoes. Perhaps it would have been different if I’d had “easier” feet. (As if it’s not terrible enough that I’ve been cursed with an odd, fashion-unfriendly bod!) But alas, finding comfortable shoes for my flat, wide feet with their gnarly toes is usually a terrible, even painful ordeal, which is why I only buy shoes when it is absolutely necessary. And then I avoid the heels at all cost.

Yes, I understand the appeal of standing about seven metres taller almost immediately. I also grasp that the correct pair of high heels can magically shape your calves, erase centimetres from your thighs, wax your legs and make you an espresso.

I don’t care. The pain is just too unbearable. For me, comfort always beats aesthetics, hands (feet?) down. I’m tired of trying to squeeze my feet into dainty, pretty shoes that refuse to fit. It makes me feel like one of Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters.

However, this particular pair that I ended up buying for the recent soiree actually (and rather astonishingly) DID fit. AND I managed to teeter one step forward without promptly falling flat on my face. AND my feet didn’t burst into flaming blisters immediately upon contact. (Mercifully, that only happened after two steps.) Which is why I bought them and wore them. (Even though it can be argued that THEY wore ME. Out. And down. I’m not a fashion victim, but I did become a victim of fashion on that painful day.)

So as soon I as I limped home, I kicked them off and have not even looked at them since.

Until tonight.

I needed to reach something up high, towards the back of the TV cabinet. (The TV remotes, if you must know. To watch US election coverage. Yes, I AM masochistic, but only in instances when the suffering can’t actually physically be felt.) Standing on my tiptoes, I was able to touch it with my fingertips.

After looking around for something to stand on, my eyes fell on the discarded shoes. So I slipped them on… and voila. I reached the remote controls and here I am… floating on Cloud 9, with Wolf Blitzer chatting in the background. 

From now on, I’ll keep them in my car. Not to pound all the odd sounding bits in the engine with it if I should ever have a breakdown. But to slip them on my feet and flag down a man to fix it for me, of course! 

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2 Comments

Nafisa said:

I quite like these shoes... If you ever take up ballroom dancing, you have the perfect pair :)

One can never have too many pairs of shoes :P

Redsaid Author Profile Page said:

Girl, I can't even WALK in these, let alone samba! Mind you, I can't dance. Not on bare feet, not in slippers, not in flats, not in tekkies...

My sisters got all the shoe-buying genes. All that was left over of the shopping gene for me, was books. Books never give you blisters. (Unless you drop a really hefty one on your toe...)

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is a South African girl living in South Africa. That doesn't sound very original, we know, but you might find it remotely interesting when you learn that she has only recently returned to South Africa for the first time after a nine year, one month and two week (non-stop!) stint in the United States where she accidentally became an outlawed alien (also known, especially in immigration circles, as an 'illegal immigrant.' We prefer the term 'outlawed alien' ourselves). During her reversed exile from her homeland, she kept herself occupied by winning this website (but only after shamelessly bribing the judges) and thus being unleashed on the web where she slowly, leisurely became the World's Laziest Blogger; by being a nanny and by attending sci-fi conventions in search of other aliens. In the US, she also made her sailing debut, her international acting debut, tried and failed to learn the piano, and never learned to cook. She is hopelessly addicted to coffee, dogs (especially Labrador Retrievers), how-to books (with a particular fondness for her copy of the Time/Life A - Z Medical Encyclopedia), and she tends to grossly overuse parentheses (we're not kidding) during her attempts at writing, which you may - if you really have masochistic tendencies - subject yourself to by reading the words to the right of this column. If you REALLY and truly STILL want to know more, you can read her C.V. here.
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  • Redsaid Author Profile Page: Girl, I can't even WALK in these, let alone samba! Mind you, I can't dance. Not on bare feet, not in... [go]
  • Nafisa : I quite like these shoes... If you ever take up ballroom dancing, you have the perfect pair :) One ... [go]
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