A womans right to shoes

I can still remember the layout of the shoe store my mother took me to when I was a child. A metal swing hung by chains from the ceiling in a corner, a brilliant marketing trick which gave the impression of being taken to the park rather than a showcase of the dullest, brownest sensible school shoes imaginable.

I had exceptionally short and wide feet so the patent leather princess

shoes my classmates wore were never an option. Also I played more football than I played with dolls so sturdy was doubtlessly the best way to go. But still a part of me yearned for shiny. I wonder if that laid the

foundation for my love of heels, flats and boots.

Here they are and I love them ALL. Virtually every pair holds a story and every pair is special. I will not appologize, I will not be ashamed and I will never stop loving shoes.