I am most definitely a shoe whore.
Recently, I acquired two more pairs of shoes, courtesy of two loving and generous god sisters.
That brings my tally to nine pairs of shoes in six months, starting from June to December 2003.
And that's not enough. I am still on the lookout for more, in particular peeptoe heels that ooze sexy glamour in subtle tones. I am dying for a pair of elegant red heels, to match my predominent purple-and-red wardrobe and to dress up simple outfits. I want a pair of ballerina pumps with patent pink bows for that obnoxiously retro look. I glance lovingly at a pair of x:odus rubber thong heels, trying to decide if purple or white is my thing (Carrie Bradshaw donned a pair of white ones so I'm swaying that way).
In short, I can never have enough pairs of shoes.
But I feel vindicated after reading through Playing Footsie in today's The Sunday Times. I feel positively normal next to the interviewees.
One throws out her relations' shoes to make room for hers (I haven't reached that stage yet, I just squash all my mum's shoes into one drawer of our shoe wardrobe which has six drawers). Model-actress Lum May Yee has a pair of $1,000 Christian Dior boots which she has worn only twice and which she feels happy merely looking at (My leather boots are almost ten times cheaper than hers and I have worn them at most five times). And yet another scours the internet in search of more great finds (I don't do that, or rather, I can't cos my shoe size is considered abnormal for an adult bah).
See? In the face of such women, how could I but pale in comparison with them?