Alright, not so crafty. But I do love new shoes so. very. much. I actually don't buy new shoes too often, but I lust after them a lot. I 'needed' new evening shoes for the ball tonight, as currently my black evening shoes and my job interview shoes are the one and same, and given that (a) last time I went to this ball someone in stilettos stepped on my foot, I didn't notice, and I bled through my shoe so much I had to throw them out; and (b) I have three job interviews in the next fortnight, it seemed like two separate pairs might be in order.
So I got these.
Even Badly Coloured Boy looked at them and said 'hey, that's that style you've been wanting for months.' Uh-huh. Little chubby heel (I don't do stiletto), lace up, feminised oxford (I already sort of have a pair of feminised oxfords in tan... and I could go more. My favourite shoe style ever). Maybe not traditionally evening-y, but with that Vogue dress and some seamed tights I hope it will work. Isn't the curve around the back of the foot and into the heel just to die for?
The lower foot is the evening shoe as seen from above. The upper shoe is my new bookwench shoe. I realised my current work shoes have a split heel (I realised when I stepped in a puddle and got damp socks), so it was two pairs in one day (a rare luxury). Bookwench shoes are a style specific to youngish booksellers, see (identified and named by the probably more shoe-enthusiastic Ms Vyvyan*). They must be flat, to assist with the sprinting about the store (yes, I run in the bookshop. Customers are not permitted such freedom). They must accomodate stupid socks and tights of all descriptions (self-imposed uniform, worn with skirts and woolen cardigans and glasses - people take your opinions more seriously if you looked like you might have had tea with Agatha Christie), and they must have a retro, bookish charm. Tick, tick and tick.
* potentially not work-safe. But I thought credit where credit is due.