stone me - and may you always have no shoes
I get really bizarrely disappointed when I'm at the Lee Kong Chian library and I don't get to ride the glass lifts on the outside of the building - you know? Eleven storeys! When I press the button for the lift and the doors open on the normal green-walled ones on the opposite side of the lobby, sometimes I burst into tears. PLEASE SEND HELP
Today I was at the library and (as they progressively disintegrated on the long walk from shelves 959.1 to the photocopy room) had to finally accept that I am going to have to throw away my ratty old heels. It is kind of disgusting (I say reflectively) the way I wear my clothes. Like, I will develop a really deep emotional attachment to particular articles of clothing based on largely irrational factors e.g. comfort, sentimental value, specific aesthetic appeal (visible only to me), horribility; and then I will wear them until they are, objectively speaking, really disgusting, and everyone will be like, can you please stop wearing that, and stop inviting me to their parties, and I'll be like (gluing the soles back on) fuck you, this is my favourite pair of shoes, you philistine, and finally (say some months later, possibly years) the shoes will disintegrate altogether and I'll be forced to admit that maybe it is time to move on, buy a new pair, etc.
This pair of heels is the only pair I own that fits my exacting criteria of:
a) fitting my oddly shaped feet (they are very long and very thin! also I have strange toes so I cannot wear certain shoes without looking like an alien. god I'm unmarriageable. er not least because of my feet)
b) not being in some freakish colour or featuring tasteless and/or frivolous and/or cutesy add-ons e.g. ugly little jewels, bows, pompoms (why does no one make plain black sandals that are not for old people any more? or bags. or clothes. I spend half my life unpicking rhinestones or bows or whatever from clothes I couldn't find minus the crap. it's okay though I have come to terms with it. it's like what Robinson says about product differentiation, I say, suddenly remembering monopolistic competition while totally misunderstanding all of macroeconomics, er anyway)
c) not giving me hideous disfiguring blisters, with all the walking I do (that NEVER HEAL, like the fisher king, laying waste the land etc as my feet bleed everywhere continuously WITH NO RESPITE)
d) having heels that are pleasingly shaped so that I don't fall over, as I am wont to do.
They have the minor drawback of being extremely ugly and sensible-looking, but I don't care, being ugly and sensible-looking myself. ha ha oh god I'm in such a bad mood. all the shoes I love are leaving me!!! the only other shoes I really love are my raspberry-ice-cream-coloured sneakers and ... that's about it really. oh and my BOOTS! and I guess my Christabel Lamotte ballet flats. (I used to loathe ballet flats! then my only glamorous-looking shoes broke in Clarke Quay! so I bought this pair, in the dark, thinking they were a tasteful charcoal grey! how wrong I was!!! they are a sort of snakey green! I comfort myself by thinking of A.S. Byatt's Possession. even my shoes are a literary allusion, I tell myself. this is a lie. you heard it here first!) and my uncomfortable cream-coloured strappy heels (they are very respectable looking but hurt my feet) and my uncomfortable red heels (I bought them because they are red! did you ever read that Hans Christian Andersen story, The Red Shoes? I freaking hate that story it's disgusting the girl like gets these red shoes and it's like VANITY. and she stops going to church and er the shoes are evil and this angel makes her dance and she freaking amputates her feet and that's like. REPENTANCE? and her name is KAREN. it's a STUPID story. and that's why I bought my red shoes.)
in sum ... in sum. IN SUM. I gotta go get me some shoes. is what I am saying.
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Gone to Langkawi on a sort-of holiday from tomorrow til Wednesday evening (2nd - 6th June) - text or phone me if anything. Begorrah!!! I say as my parting shot
Today I was at the library and (as they progressively disintegrated on the long walk from shelves 959.1 to the photocopy room) had to finally accept that I am going to have to throw away my ratty old heels. It is kind of disgusting (I say reflectively) the way I wear my clothes. Like, I will develop a really deep emotional attachment to particular articles of clothing based on largely irrational factors e.g. comfort, sentimental value, specific aesthetic appeal (visible only to me), horribility; and then I will wear them until they are, objectively speaking, really disgusting, and everyone will be like, can you please stop wearing that, and stop inviting me to their parties, and I'll be like (gluing the soles back on) fuck you, this is my favourite pair of shoes, you philistine, and finally (say some months later, possibly years) the shoes will disintegrate altogether and I'll be forced to admit that maybe it is time to move on, buy a new pair, etc.
This pair of heels is the only pair I own that fits my exacting criteria of:
a) fitting my oddly shaped feet (they are very long and very thin! also I have strange toes so I cannot wear certain shoes without looking like an alien. god I'm unmarriageable. er not least because of my feet)
b) not being in some freakish colour or featuring tasteless and/or frivolous and/or cutesy add-ons e.g. ugly little jewels, bows, pompoms (why does no one make plain black sandals that are not for old people any more? or bags. or clothes. I spend half my life unpicking rhinestones or bows or whatever from clothes I couldn't find minus the crap. it's okay though I have come to terms with it. it's like what Robinson says about product differentiation, I say, suddenly remembering monopolistic competition while totally misunderstanding all of macroeconomics, er anyway)
c) not giving me hideous disfiguring blisters, with all the walking I do (that NEVER HEAL, like the fisher king, laying waste the land etc as my feet bleed everywhere continuously WITH NO RESPITE)
d) having heels that are pleasingly shaped so that I don't fall over, as I am wont to do.
They have the minor drawback of being extremely ugly and sensible-looking, but I don't care, being ugly and sensible-looking myself. ha ha oh god I'm in such a bad mood. all the shoes I love are leaving me!!! the only other shoes I really love are my raspberry-ice-cream-coloured sneakers and ... that's about it really. oh and my BOOTS! and I guess my Christabel Lamotte ballet flats. (I used to loathe ballet flats! then my only glamorous-looking shoes broke in Clarke Quay! so I bought this pair, in the dark, thinking they were a tasteful charcoal grey! how wrong I was!!! they are a sort of snakey green! I comfort myself by thinking of A.S. Byatt's Possession. even my shoes are a literary allusion, I tell myself. this is a lie. you heard it here first!) and my uncomfortable cream-coloured strappy heels (they are very respectable looking but hurt my feet) and my uncomfortable red heels (I bought them because they are red! did you ever read that Hans Christian Andersen story, The Red Shoes? I freaking hate that story it's disgusting the girl like gets these red shoes and it's like VANITY. and she stops going to church and er the shoes are evil and this angel makes her dance and she freaking amputates her feet and that's like. REPENTANCE? and her name is KAREN. it's a STUPID story. and that's why I bought my red shoes.)
in sum ... in sum. IN SUM. I gotta go get me some shoes. is what I am saying.
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Gone to Langkawi on a sort-of holiday from tomorrow til Wednesday evening (2nd - 6th June) - text or phone me if anything. Begorrah!!! I say as my parting shot