Wee Scoops

Measure for Measure

Archive for the tag “Footwear”

A shoe walked into a bar…

I have ordered two rounds of fabulous footwear after a traumatic few days of shoe shopping. So much so that I set myself a pun-chline challenge on the theme of shoes.

Please vote for your favourite pun-chline 🙂

English: Shoes in a shop

English: Shoes in a shop (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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Tip Top Toes

English: A pair of high heeled shoe with 12cm ...

English: A pair of high heeled shoe with 12cm stiletto heels. Category:Shoes (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My footwear has once again reached a low point. (Is that a type of shoe?)

I hate shoes. Boots are a joy; shoes are a pain. With shoes come ankles; with ankles come legs; with legs come effort.  Effort and self-consciousness.

Christmas is coming and pretty little outfits are winking their spangles at me – and I’m buying them. I’m buying them with big boots on, that aren’t of course what I’ll wear with them. But what will I wear with them? If I don’t buy something appropriate, I’ll have to wear big boots with them. Big flat boots. Big flat boots that, when worn with a sparkly outfit, render me a hobbit.

I then go through my ‘heels’ loop. I can’t walk in heels. There’s no point in buying them. I can walk from the car to the event in them, but then I have to discard them as soon as I get there and stomp stumpily about all night in my feet. Also, because I can’t walk in them, I resent paying money for them, so I buy cheap ones which turn out to be complete rubbish. Who knows? Maybe if I could bring myself to pay more for shoes they would function like shoes.

I doubt it.

Maybe platforms are the way forward. Maybe platforms are also the way to A and E, though. I’m not used to heights.

Then I watch Strictly Come Dancing and see people in perfectly lovely shoes running about in them – flinging themselves around a dance floor with gay abandon, seemingly without a consideration of decking it. Maybe I should root out some ballroom dancing shoes and see if they are walkable in.

But for now, I banish the thought of heels from my shopping list, and imagine the balm that this would bring…  and the result is a wee poem. It makes sense, I promise:

 

Cobblers

Heeling shoes
Shooing heels
Healing Shoes
Shooing heals

The universal appeal of puddles

It turns out that Peppa Pig was right:

Peppa Pig

Peppa Pig (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Everyone loves jumping in muddy puddles.”

It is a truth universally acknowledged that any child wearing unsuitable footwear will make a beeline for any puddle – muddy ones in particular – and jump up and down in it.

Everyone Loves Jumping In Muddy Puddles

Everyone Loves Jumping In Muddy Puddles (Photo credit: Phil W Shirley)

Those of us who make it to the ripe old age of thirty nine spend our time discouraging such behaviour, but to no avail. The children just go there. It’s as if they are homing or something.

*decides to side-step evolutionary debate*

The encouraging thing is that little children with the wrong shoes aren’t the only ones. If you are free from worry about catching cold, ruining footwear, having nothing to change into and suchlike – if you can free yourself from the moment after jumping in muddy puddles and focus on the actual jumping in muddy puddles – I assure you -it’s all good.

Some parts of Scotland were flooded this week. Down here, the rain was super-heavy – but not outa control. So in the park there were a few good waterlogged paths where the water was thigh high. (I’m short.)

Woosh woosh woosh and in I go shouting “Horses! Horses!” (I don’t know why. I think it’s a quote- I’m visualising Jane Horrocks as Bubble in Ab Fab saying it… – but to get through it you have to hop like a horse in the dressage thing…  I hope it’s a quote. Otherwise I am just pretending to be a horse… when, in honour of Peppa, I should be pretending to be a pig. And we do roll in mud, so that would be ok, but for the water bit – it’s definitely “Horses!”)

Before you dash into a flood in mid-November, there is that moment of doubt – when they ask, “Does anyone mind getting wet?” I hope and hope that no one will put a dampener on the idea, where i suppress the urge to to yell “Let me in! Let me in!” (Maybe my baptist upbringing is more deeply imbedded than I thought…) And the relief when we are instructed to run through it… and back again… and through again… and a round of sit ups…. and through again.

All of a sudden you realise that Peppa was right, and at the core of humanity (or, in her parallel universe where pigs got the better of evolution) is the innate desire to jump in puddles.

Everyone want to.

There are infinite reasons not to.

Get the right shoes.

Go and jump.

My battle with inadequate footwear continues

I am between shoes.

It has rained every day since… I mean, it has rained every day.

My Converses are no longer sufficient for the walk to school. Something more substantial was called for.

So, I invested in a pair of big black boots, using my Here’s-a-voucher-for-you-school-mum-having-conformed-to-the-world’s-standards-and-bought-multiple-pairs-of-Clarks-school-shoes-all-of-which-will-prove-to-be-no-match-for-either-the-weather-or-your-children’s-ever-growing-feet-before -first-term-is-out voucher.

And then it was sunny for two days.

Back to the Converses. (It’s too cold for my “WaveWalk” flip-flops…)

Meanwhile, I had a daft hoarder parent moment. The girls started ballet. I bought them ballet shoes. I then remembered that I had MY ballet shoes from when I was little. I had kept them, for, well, I had kept them.

I went into the attic, and there the were. Looking like ballet shoes. Worn out and a random size matching no one in the household and no use to man nor beast – but they were there.

20120904-104054 PM.jpg

So, now they are out of the attic. I kept them for thirty years.

But now I don’t know why…

😕

 

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