amen.

Source unknown. Found via Phoenix

flat lining.

When I was seventeen, I wore four inch heels to college a few times. They were brown suede and gold leather peep toe sling backs. A Topshop idea of retro really. I still have them. Along with just over 10 more pairs of heels that range from a modest two and a half inches to a (sadly, not that absurd) six inches. The collection includes these £5 beauties.

They're for decoration, certainly not for wearing. I get the feeling they were never designed for walking.
But the place in my heart that used to spring alive at the sight of a platform pair of heels has gone.
I am a dedicated follower of flats. And a born again Nike Air addict.

Maybe it's because I spend almost all my time walking and running around. Maybe it's because the "I don't give a fuck" cool of a pair of trainers or Dr Martens or a well loved brogue out trumps the slow, uncomfortable clomp of a pair of a-little-too-high-for-comfort stilettos. And maybe it's because at that back of my mind, I'm always thinking "What if the Zombie Apocalypse started RIGHT NOW?" and I don't want to be the silly bitch caught out running in bare feet, shoes dangling from her hand.
Whatever the reason (zombies mainly) I'm a flats fanatic.
I shall leave you with the wise words of Caitlin Moran.

"If I'm going to spunk £500 on a pair of designer shoes, it's going to be a pair that I can a) dance to 'Bad Romance' in, and b) will allow me to run away from a murderer, should one suddenly decide to give chance. That's the minimum I ask from my footwear. To be able to dance in it, and for it not to get me murdered."

From How To Be A Woman by Caitlin Moran

lovely words.

lovely words.

Photo by TC (Flickr)