50 heels a day

I got a bad bad habit.  I stick shoes on my feet as though they were needles in my arm.  My booty is shoesies, sweet reward for the constraints of conformity of having to attend a graduation ceremony at Imperial College, as a stage-hoppin’ lecturer, you’ll note Imperial is conveniently located to Brompton Cross and Knightsbridge.

Academic regalia, Ede & Ravenscroft

I slipped up looking for flats, and as ever came home with another pair of heels.  What a tramline junkie.  I hated the conformity of being instructed to wear a shirt to hook the gothic grad hood to, and then I fall victim as a stereotypical city dwelling chick, by being a shoe-whore.  I’ve spent too much of my life trying to fit in.  Just to earn money. I cannot wait to split to Spain and Ibiza soon.  I will run around barefoot forever, but these new shoes are coming with us…

Shoes, Nicole Farhi.  Shirt, Zara.  Skirt, McQueen.  Shades, Oliver Peoples

Later.  I’m  off to watch Wild Child

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