Love at First Sight

I, like many other people across the world, didn’t realise I needed a pair of new shoes until I saw them. They spoke to me in a language of diamonds and lace, of luxury and poise. They whispered to me about how wonderful I would feel whilst wearing them and how they would fill me with confidence in myself.

I only saw their picture but I knew their voice when I heard it. And I listened; of course I listened. I had no choice when wooed by such beautiful and enchanting twins such as these. It was then that all reason and rational thought left me.

I spent a day tracking them down and 30 seconds staring at them in awe and wonder. The picture on the internet didn’t do them justice at all and as I beheld them I basked in their daintiness. I found my size and tried them on. They didn’t disappoint. Everything they promised me, every desire they tempted me with was fulfilled in an instant. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t take them off. I can’t, won’t shan’t part with them.

It is love at first sight.

Their relationship with me will be faultless and it is me who is to blame for any blisters or bunions I get as a consequence of their wear.  They can do no wrong and I will treat my princesses with all the care and affection they deserve. Whatever pain they cause me will be superficial and can be deferred until July’s credit card bill.

Now I must learn to walk in their image.


My new pair of Jenny Packham heels