“the shoe that fits one person pinches another; there is no recipe for living that suits all cases.” // c. jung
as per usual, when it comes to finding a solution to any sort of problem, whether existential or even more pressing, sartorial – i’m rather slow to the punch. for years i’ve blathered on about heels – the never wearing of them, not being able to walk whilst wearing them and the associated pain of attempting to do so; along with my deep affection for them – in that way you can adore something but want nothing to do with it. i’m trying to think of another example, and thus far, i’m stumped – i’ll circle back around if it comes to me.
but finally and mostly decisively, i’ve cottoned on.
a most terrible word, the sound of which perfectly sums up the din they make, but mercifully not the way they look (mostly) – the solution i’ve found?
sturdy heeled, platformed to take the edge of the height, rounded of toe to allow for my soft and arched feet to be who they are, and just a wee bit contrary – which just serves to match up with the rest of me.
go on, have a good laugh. i don’t mind. i’ll just sit here and wait for the 70s to deliver unto me their shoe of choice.
➝ source : jane clog on platform in storm via no. 6
➝ source : camilla peep-toe via bryr
➝ source : fiero clog via rachel comey
➝ source : inez desert clog via rag & bone