I was tidying up “the magic” room (aka shoe closet). I really need the space and it’s getting very (!) crowded in there. Besides, we all know that a party (even though held by fancy heels) too crowded is no fun anymore. Also I need to divide heels in sections: the ones I have already shot (a huge pile actually) and the ones that still need to shine for blog. My mission was clear, am totally determined to stick to a hard regime (= merciless matron). Everything out of fashion, that doesn’t fit, has hideous heels or hasn’t been worn in... ergh, OK the last three years (little devil on shoulder begging: pleeeeease, can we make that five) MUST GO.
Although what I find hidden in forgotten boxes (Prada, Ferré, Zanotti) can’t even be looked at anymore (the shape, really? Did I wear THAT?) and certainly hasn’t been worn in a while, I find myself in the middle of a heel fitting, absolutely hesitant to let them go. Very much like South Park: a lot of shouting “Daaaaaad, the Prada’s won’t come out of the closet”. Dilemma, dilemma, I mean if THEY REALLY DON’T WANT TO, why force it?
It’s such a pity for the Ferré pumps too that I decided to be all “Achmed the dead terrorist” and kill it kill it kill it.
Aaaaaaaaaaah, you know what.....am having a generous day. And mercy is my middle name. End up inventing a new section in shoe room.
Staying in the closet that is.
Today’s shoes are Prada and Ferré amongst various