Hello my lovelies.
There is nothing more cheery in life than a pair of red shoes. From my Dorothy heels, to my slippers and even my gardening shoes and gumboots, my feet are frequently enclosed in red goodness.
Many I have had for well over 10 years. Purchased with glee back when I was still able to work. And from as far afield as Singapore, on my last overseas trip prior to that pesky illness thing. Yet others have been an impulse buy on a bad day when only a pair of red, polka dot, bow-topped flats could make the world a better place.
I still look longingly at red shoes. Online, or face pressed hard against the window of shoe stores who's pretty, happy offerings are beyond my meagre finances. Oh sweet red leather, faux leather, fabric, sequinned, glittered beauties. How I wish I could take you home.
Backward or forward, they are a perfect line of loveliness.
Who needs a basket of puppies when you can have a basket of red shoes?
This is my basket of happiness.
Maybe just one more pair. I can stop any time I want. Really I can. There's that pair of red faux-suede knee high boots that would be perfect for Winter. Or, that pair of patent, red Doc Martins I spotted the other day. Or, the pair of red glittery runners. Or......
Am I alone in my red shoe fetish? Can anyone top my addiction? Or tell me that I really need those knee high boots for my mental health.
Don't forget to head on over and donate to my Clicking my heels for Dysautonomia, fundraising for Dysautonomia Research at The Baker IDI here in Melbourne. (Information about the ongoing droxidopa aka L-DOPS, trial including how to volunteer, can be found here.)
Click here to donate.
Put on your red shoes and dance the blues!