What is it with me and shoes? I think I have about 115 pairs. Of heels, that is. That doesn’t count ballet flats, hooker boots, flip-flops, wedges…the list goes on. I definitely have a shoe fetish. In order to qualify for one of those – in case you’re interested – you need to have spent over €100 on a pair of flip-flops. Karen Millen and they’re to die for.
I have so many pairs I can’t contain them. My spare bedroom isn’t as much a walk in wardrobe (which was the original plan) as it as ‘The Shoe Room.’ When I moved recently three of us had to carry them in relays down the three flights of stairs. My brother eventually asked at one point what was in all the boxes. He had no idea. When he heard they were all shoes his accountant’s heart nearly lost the will to live. There were distinct mutterings about the Celtic tiger and something else about my ability to spend money, but I couldn’t be too sure, so I let it pass. Anyhow, I like my money where I can see it; hanging in my closet. 
I’ve been a lover of all kinds of shoes for as long as I can remember. As far back as seeing the Wizard of Oz one Christmas Day when I was about 6, seeing Dorothy’s shoes and wanting them more than I wanted my sister’s selection box. I got them eventually – with a kick-ass 5 inch heel – but either way, I got them. I spent five weeks once searching for the perfect pair of shoes. When I eventually discovered them it turned out they were a pale pink colour with teeny tiny pearls and ties that wound up my ankle. Who would’ve known?
A much loved and totally cheap pair that also paid for themselves (many times over) are my leopard-print Faith ones. Dead cheap and dead sexy, with pink soles for added oomph. And oomph they did; I had to be carried down the stairs of a club one night because my feet had literally given up, they hadn’t the Faith to walk any further. Thank God for random Italian men who’ve no problem carrying/supporting drunken Irish women.
Another pair I have a special affinity for are my Dolce and Gabannas; utterly gorgeous and utterly un-wearable. But who cares? Have you seen me in them? They’re like…dessert shoes. Something you just have to have.
The first pair of ‘decent’ shoes I got were bought by a man. I had done what no-one in the entire accounts department (which I wasn’t a member of) could do – collect €20k worth of bad debt two weeks before Christmas – so I got them as a bonus. I’ve often wondered why companies insist on hiring hatchet faced accounts staff. All you need to chase bad debt is a little charm, and be able to pour it down the phone by the bucket load. Easiest 2 grand I ever made. I bought my first expensive pair of shoes with that cash; €850 Stuart Weitzman Ltd Edition. And believe me, if you ever lose a bet to your boyfriend and end up having to do the late night shimmy shimmy in knickers and heels only, then Stuart Weitzman is what you should aim to be wearing.
Now that I’ve been told – sadly – that I don’t actually possess a ‘poker face’ I no longer bet with men. They take betting seriously.
Trulyblonde? 