I wouldn’t ever have described myself as very girlie, feminine yes, but girlie no. I have long hair and a love for heels (which, at 5’4.5 – basically 5’5 – and a lot of tall friends, is a pretty natural desire), but I also love adventure war wounds and driving as if I am auditioning for “The Fast and Furious 15” (or whatever number we are up to).
So whenever the subject of shoes came up, I would almost proudly announce that I “do not have hundreds of pairs of shoes”. Well, I may have been right about the hundreds, but as I went through, ruthlessly bagging up all the things that were taking my focus away, I started to look at all the shoes that were mounting up. Counting; 1,2,3….10,11,12 (slightly shocked at this point), 22, 24, 25 (audible “OMG’s” by this point) 36, 37,38 (starting to distrust my own counting ability by now) 44, 45, 46,47.
I checked again. Still 47.
As I looked around at the graveyard of heels and shoe boxes, I wondered two things; 1) how on earth had I amassed this amount of shoes? 2) how did I not know I had amassed this amount of shoes?
Most hadn’t ever been worn, others hadn’t been worn since the 90’s.
What was more remarkable, was that upon second glance, my ruthless drive had gone and was replaced with a preparation plan for every possible eventuality that I may need a shoe for.
Of my favourites; “mid-height heels will be great if I get some trousers to go with them”. I don’t have trousers that have asked for “mid-heels” as yet, I am not sure I ever have.
Then there was “well there will always be that time where I will need old trainers”. Yes, always. Quite. Phew that I have three pairs of old trainers then for the constant stream of old-trainer-requirements.
This theme continued throughout the day where dresses that were too big for me were “good if i should ever be pregnant”… well that’s good to plan for. I don’t have a significant other and I am not sure I will be chosen for an immaculate conception, but at least I have a dress should I one day look down at my stomach and suddenly find myself with child.
A pair of jeans also made it into the same scenario where I may need old trainers. I’m so looking forward to that day, I’m going to look awesome.
Possibly even more shocking than my shoes and clothing range, was the incredible amount of skin care items I had. 12 tubs, bottles or tubes of moisturiser, along with a myriad of different face cleansers, toners and some other items which have bold statements of preserving my youth and making my skin look like it’s been airbrushed.
I finished after having gone through items in only one room. One black bag of things to give away to the rubbish fairy and three black bags of stuff destined for charity shops, eBay or a very fortunate friend or sister.
Admittedly some items, however bizarre the reason for keeping them, did make it through. It’s early days and as my best friend once said when she ate a bacon sandwich the same day she decided to be a Chicketarian (a vegetarian who eats chicken apparently) “lifestyle choices take time”.
“How did I end up amongst all of these shoes?!”