The Girl and The Shoes

Their eyes met across a very crowded room.

The Girl, a shoe lover, found her soulmate, The Shoe, one Saturday in the far off land of Manchester in Office.

Normally The Girl did not go in to Office. Lovely shoes but very expensive but this shop was different, it was a tucked away treasure trove that had cheap Office shoes in it. End of the line shoes and sample shoes, shoes that were no longer wanted by the ‘normal’ Office store a mere stone’s throw away in St Ann’s Square.

It was a store not for the faint-hearted. You needed guts and guile if you wanted to be victorious. You had to throw yourself into the melee, make your way to the rack containing your shoe size and hope for the best. No “Have you got this in size blah blah?” If it was there, on your rack, it was meant to be.

The Girl was lucky. She has big elephant size 8 feet and no-one is never normally hanging round that rack. Unfortunately nice shoes also never normally hang round that rack either, nice shoes belong to the realms of size 5 and size 6, sensible shoes are the order of the day in a size 8’s world.

Then she saw them. Her eyes locked in on the prize and, like a valiant soldier, she charged full throttle towards them.

She snatched The Shoe up and held it to her chest. Her eyes were very wide and excited. “Ohmygodilovethemihavetohavethemthey’reonlyfifteenquid.”

She tried them on. “Hmmmmm.” She thought as she realised she could see the top of every single person’s head in the shop. “Maybe these are a tad too tall.” When you’re already nearly 5’10”, adding 6 inches to your height is something you might want to think twice about.

But the love was overpowering. She had to have them. (And, you know, they were £15 and heels that high always make your legs look awesome)

She wobbled about the flat like Bambi trying to break them in. She realised that sometimes the thing you really love isn’t always the best thing for you. She sensed trouble ahead. “I’ll just wear them when I’m mainly sitting down” she told herself.

But then. One fateful night The Girl had to go to the ball (alright, a night round Hull, same diff’) and she knew The Shoes had to accompany her. They had to. She would take the plunge and put her faith in them and they wouldn’t let her down.

And they didn’t.

The Girl and The Shoes had a wonderful night. They pranced over the cobbled streets of Old Town and they flitted across the dancefloor of various scabby bars with ease. And they were wonderful and charming and The Shoes received compliments wherever they and The Girl went. And they didn’t hurt her little toes and she arrived back home safely in one piece.

So when another opportunity came for them to go out together again The Girl snatched it up at once. “Oh what fun we shall have Shoes. We will dance and whirl and all who drink along Princes Avenue will be stunned and amazed at our gorgeousness.”

But there was an interloper.

Someone determined to spoil their fun.

And they went by the name of Rose wine.

The afternoon started off well, The Girl, The Shoes, The Wine were all getting along famously, what a marvellous little threesome they would make. But then the evening came and The Wine began to dominate, and The Girl became confused, she fell under the spell and she forgot all about The Shoes. They needed her full attention and so charmed was she by The Wine that she became distracted. The first evening she’d worn The Shoes had been fine because The Wine wasn’t a factor, this time was different, for a start The Wine came along at 3pm. Quite an early start.

The Shoes were rageful. How dare The Girl forget about them. How dare she treat them this way after lavishing so much attention on them? The Wine was annoyed too. It knew that it wasn’t The Girl’s first love and was angered by this. So The Shoes and The Wine conspired together. They decided that they would let The Girl enjoy her night out but when it came to the end they would teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget.

And they did.

And the next morning, through her tears and fuzzy head, all The Girl could muster up the energy to do was sit and feel sorry for herself and promise and swear that she would never disrespect The Shoes again.

And then she came up with this equation because it was all she had the strength to do.

(And then you know she kind of had an pulmonary embolism and ended up in hospital as a result)

But it’s not really The Shoe’s fault. And they are very pretty. And some people did want to know where they were from and so The Girl, in an act of benevolence decided to see if she could find them online. And she did. (And she did a happy jig in her seat because they should have been £70! HA!) And she thought she would pass on the link to other people because that would be the kind thing to do and ohmygodtheydotheminredwhydidn’tiseethose.

So here you go, if you want the shoes (and you have either very small or very big feet because that’s all they have left) then click HERE.

But don't say you weren't warned...