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Tell me about it, stud

February 1, 2017

 

 

I have rivets in my shoes. It’s alright, they’re meant to be there, Sonia Rykiel herself waved the idea through when she collaborated with Robert Clergerie in his A/W 16 collection and made these velvet wedges encrusted with hardware. And, lucky for me, my birthday is in the A/W too- an important detail of this fairy-tale of the Sonia Rykiel riveted -riveting- wedges.

 

My October birthday has historically yielded boots and/or coats from doting family members, eager to take the strain in purchasing ‘investment’ pieces for the long winter ahead.  For this I’m always immensely grateful and anyway, coats and boots are my absolute favourites- I look forward to that exciting point in the year where the choices begin to present themselves, and the sweet fear of making a choice that will haunt the next 7 months sets in.

 

This year however, after the necessary coat purchase (the most beautiful camel ankle-length belted overcoat from Modern Rarity, at John Lewis- thanks Mum!) I felt the deviant inside me stir and wake. Despite it being mid-October, a pair of sandals had caught my eye on my shopping expedition for the coat, and they had glistened and winked at me like Barbara Windsor in the male ward of a Carry-On classic. Gruffly clearing my throat and metaphorically re-arranging the bed-sheets every time I walked by the shop window in which they nestled, coyly, I forced my mind back to good, practical boots. A nice sturdy lace-up perhaps? And with a grippy sole, yes, a grippy sole.

 

But these slippers, sultry and iridescent in navy velvet, were practically purring at this point and so I slunk in to try them on.

 

 

Now I don’t usually go in for ‘buying yourself a present’ (That’s called shopping, isn’t it? I don’t ‘gift myself’ a prawn mayo sandwich or a belt from Topshop). And this stirring felt uncharacteristically self-indulgent and unnecessary. But after a difficult year, I realised I wanted to show myself love, compassion and a request for forgiveness. And it turns out the most clichéd of ways is the best way, because I ended up buying the shoes. For myself. Happy birthday to me! I was my own flashy boyfriend, making up for the Porsche and the porn habit with shoes so beautiful they were practically works of art.

 

I’ve always enjoyed a bit of judicious bling, and sometimes I have to reel myself in from getting a bit too Jason and the Argonauts in the quest for my next golden fleece, but these shoes truly are next-level special. Their siren cries have been silenced and they have not left my feet.

 

They look great with everything- I enjoy the idea of whacking on a great glittering accessory with a simple outfit as much as I like adding to an already eccentric ensemble. In short, it’s never the wrong time to add a little something that makes you feel good. (Unless you’re at a buffet, hovering over the cocktail sausages, in which case 17 is the social limit, apparently).

 

Anyway, practicality be damned, I can always wear them with socks.

 

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