My shoes! My shoes! I found them!

Black pumps. There are many many things that I can say about black pumps, but I’m going to try to say not that many many. I like them. A lot. I wear them. A lot. I wear them out really really quickly… Which mean that these shoes usually need to be replaced every couple of months. This is not as fun as it sounds though. Yes, HAVING to go shoe shopping is not actually every girl’s dream! I am extremely picky and always have trouble finding shoes that fit, as my feet were not ‘designed’ with the ‘ideal proportions’ in mind. (I often find it rather annoying that pants, for example, come in a variety of cuts and proportions to suit different body shapes; and pants are something that can be altered! You can’t do that with shoes!) Anyway, so last year, I thought I had it waxed, because I purchased two pairs of black pumps; firstly because hopefully they won’t wear out so quickly, and secondly, in order to have a back-up pair should the one pair get thrashed. However, when I went on a very very long December holiday, I only took one of these pairs along, and when I returned to my flat, the other pair was nowhere to be found. I searched everywhere (or so I thought). Nothing. It was sortof OK though, because I had another pair… The shoes would turn up eventually, won’t they? But then something dismal happened. My other pair got worn out. So worn out, in fact, that I was embarrassed to wear them in public. Which made the disappearance of the other pair more of a crisis. I searched. I made phone calls. Nothing. And then, the other day, when I was packing to go camping, I found the lost shoes between some shopping bags in my garage. How they got there, I have absolutely no idea. But yay yay yay yay! Outfits work again!

Just another cliche to add to the ones already prevalent on this day

Aww…Valentine’s day! How awesome! Cute couples everywhere, people walking around with flowers, people dressed to match the day… it all makes me want to vomit! Seriously, I thought that having a wonderful somebody to celebrate this not-so-wonderful day would somehow change my sentiment about it… It didn’t. I still think it’s lame and commercial and superficial (and that it often causes unnecessary trouble between  people due to unmet expectations). So lame, in fact, that I’m actually ignoring it in a way, trying not to mention it unless it is mentioned first. As I’m trying to actually ignore this day, I seriously tried not to wear red or pink or hearts or anything like that today. I failed. I failed because I was in a bit of a rush this morning and I just wanted to wear something that made me feel comfortable and good and like myself. Because I dress like it’s Valentine’s day every day; I’m always wearing something red (or pink) or some sort of heart accessory. (My red shoes are a current favourite). Not really for of any reason except that i like it… but maybe it’s connected to that intrinsic belief that it should  be Valentine’s day every single day.

I’ve lost my heart… to a magazine

Yesterday afternoon, during the last minutes that the shops were open in the town whose streets I was strolling on (heading for a bad movie) is spotted a word. Or was it the typeface too? Or the whole cover? That led me to the magical realisation. NYLON. I have found a new(ish) copy of NYLON magazine. Peace, love and fluffy animals!

See, I absolutely adore this wonderful piece of magazinistry (because I always feel awkward calling magazines journalism); it is everything I could ever want from a magazine and nothing I could not. And it’s unfortunately not particularly available in this remote little country at the south of Africa. And because of the Africa part of my location, I have always failed to subscribe. Which is why I delight in moments like these!

Yay the universe!

Have you seen this bag?

Probably not, right, but I reaaly loved it. (It was stolen) It was like a pet almost; it was always happy to see me and smelt like a bag should smell. And perfectly sized. And we were compatible. So a shrine, almost. (And y’all get to see the contents of my handbag, and my feet…)