23 September 2011


Yesterday in case you didn't already know the state of my wardrobe caught my attention and to my alarm it was pretty bloody awful the further I went and rummaged into the concealed corners of my wardrobe the more gruesome discoveries I stumbled upon on.I say gruesome as that's exactly what it was in there,not a million miles away from a nightmare.The carnage consisted of a tangled triangle of snapped plastic hangers,a bundle of knotted tights-mostly now laddered,victims of sharp pointy broken clothes hangers: which have no mercy for patterned pretty hosiery.Other such wardrobe victims include cheap and cheerful Primark bags,with zips and straps hanging on for dear life and one nylon thread keeping it's structure in tact.Far from it's former glory.Then obviously there's all those I-JUST-HAD-TO-HAVE-'EM-LIKE-RIGHT-NOW shoes,patent pairs,leopard print pairs,peep-toe pairs,plum purple suede tasseled loafer pairs (I've really made the loafers sound shit and hhuuugley haven't I?In real life those loafers are really quite lovely in an ironic dorkish sort of sense),the future of all the above shoes once looked bright and promising.Yet somehow they got kicked to the wayside,dreams of seeing great things and dominating dance floors disappeared replaced with sitting in their battered shoe box collecting dust instead of dance points.I decide with the shoes my epic wardrobe blitz shall begin!

Above illustrations courtesy of Achraf Amiri

I approach the mass of shoes gingerly,it's resembling a shoe graveyard over here in the left hand corner,right hand corner,middle of the floor and all general floor space this is a sea of shoes and they're waves have crashed and spilled over into other areas of my room.Ah look there's the pest of a platform boot I trip over every single morning in the dim light of dawn.And every morning I aggressively kick it over to one side,and curse obscene censored language to it-as if it can actually hear me and respond to my request of staying the hell out of my way.I think I've just shed a tear as I grab it's partner platform boot and drop it into a charity donation bin bag,there's a sick part of me which will surely miss the daily morning routine of stumbling over and banging my toe on the bed in the process.My dear platform boot your gone but not forgotten.Okay that was nice and easypeasy this wardrobe clear out mission won't take nearly as long as I thought.No sweat this will all be over in five...
As I turn around and see all the other piles of shoes it dawns on me the platform boot was only the beginning.I'm dripping with trepidation sifting through all the shoes.I don't recall ever buying this many pairs of shoes,so I can only assume they've been breeding the brogues especially at a rapid rate.Jeez I have every colour and version of the classic brogue imaginable.I may hold on to the patent pink pair,and nautical navy blue/white pair I forgot about these tanned pair with crochet leather lace detail!THE BROGUES ARE HERE TO STAY.I can't part with these besides I've bonded with my brogues and am yet to bond with the other pink patent pair which admittedly I had no recollection of,but do now and I'm wearing these beauts tomorrow!This wardrobe blitz exercise is obviously counter-productive the contents of my charity shop donation bag is dire.'Come on donate stop keeping all the wonderful shoes to yourself,shoes you've hardly,if ever worn?'my nagging thoughts are right you know.I get stuck in and after two hours (I clearly underestimated the scale of this task.Quite a lot)I'm doing well the donation bag is starting to look hefty,bulging with protruding heels.Plodding happily along,wonder if my shoes will make the charity shop window display?(I always go and investigate whether any of my clothes donations are sat in the window,last time I checked my gorgeous peterpan collar frock failed to make the window display.Yes I was offended and I want it back!Tut*).
Oh how this is becoming so very boring and tiresome:such a drag.Where can I get my paws on one of those giant shoe scooper-uper's that the bloke in Primark often uses much like a doggy pooper scooper only adapted for the use of clearing shoes off the shop floor.Anyways that would be a handy and ideal tool for me and my shoe graveyard,
which is home to some serious dodgy and questionable pairs of shoes.Multi-coloured bow print flats anyone?Whoops somebody allowed their inner 7yr old to influence her decision making didn't they?Oh yes they did.Congrats.Epic style fail.I can't work out why when I'm tidying my shoes up and dumping them in donation bags are they continuing to breed,this fails all logic.Aahh I should be able to see my floor by now!Urrrgh wheres that Primark shoe pooper scooper dude when you need him huh?

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