This piece came from an exercise to describe 3 pairs of shoes and then write a story.
I own three of the pairs described here. Guess which pair I wore at my wedding.
The Shoes.
The shoes stood in the centre of the shop window. They were so lovely, thin strips of gold leather with tall, slender heels decorated with crystals. They would look amazing with my black evening gown, the Shirley Bassey one with sparkly spaghetti straps and the split to the top of my thigh. The perfect shoes for the perfect outfit!
I already had a gold evening bag and a wrap of shimmering shot silk. I was going to look absolutely fabulous.
The shop was one of those small exclusive boutiques where there are no prices in the window. The shoes would be very expensive as they were designer, but worth every penny. I opened the door and the bell chimed elegantly. Inside the shoes and boots were arranged on the shelves like pieces of art, only one pair of each style on display. In the middle of the shop the handbags reclined on a long oak table that had been polished until it shone like a mirror.
The saleswoman stared at me as I picked one of the gold evening sandals. She wore a well-cut black suit and her make-up was immaculate. Her hair looked as if it didn’t move.
‘Can I help you?’ she said, not meaning a word of it.
‘Do you have these in an eight?’ I asked.
‘I’ll have to check,’ she said, not moving. ‘We don’t sell many eights. It’s rather a large size.’
I didn’t answer. Eventually she moved herself to the store room. In spite of her smart appearance, she was wearing decidedly un-chic flat brown lace-ups. It must be very hard on her feet, all that running about and attending to customers.
I looked at the other shoes. There was a beautiful pair of white peep-toe courts with butterflies on the toes, just right for a summer wedding. Next to them was a pair of olive green suede boots with pink stitching on the seams. I loved them too, but I had plenty of boots, even if none of them was green. On the shelf below was a pair of metallic pink mules with kitten heels. There was a matching bag and I was so tempted, but I had to be strict with myself. I was here for the gold evening sandals.
The saleswoman returned and handed me the box. ‘Here you are,’ she said ungraciously.
I opened the box. The shoes nestled together, wrapped in tissue. I took them out. They were so beautiful.
‘I’d like to try them on.’ I took off my trainers and socks.
A strangled noise came from the saleswoman, but my feet are always well cared for and the crimson nail polish was immaculate. I rolled up my jeans and slipped the shoes on, carefully fastening the straps, then stood up. They were a perfect fit. The saleswoman’s eyes were bulging. I walked up and down, turning in front of the mirror. Fabulous.
‘I’ll take them.’ I took off the shoes and handed them to her.
She took the shoes and the box to the till while I put my socks and trainers back on. I walked over to her and presented my credit card. She snatched it out of my hand and shoved it in the machine. I entered my PIN. Transaction completed, she gave me the bag with my new shoes inside.
I’ve always had small feet for a man.
I own three of the pairs described here. Guess which pair I wore at my wedding.
The Shoes.
The shoes stood in the centre of the shop window. They were so lovely, thin strips of gold leather with tall, slender heels decorated with crystals. They would look amazing with my black evening gown, the Shirley Bassey one with sparkly spaghetti straps and the split to the top of my thigh. The perfect shoes for the perfect outfit!
I already had a gold evening bag and a wrap of shimmering shot silk. I was going to look absolutely fabulous.
The shop was one of those small exclusive boutiques where there are no prices in the window. The shoes would be very expensive as they were designer, but worth every penny. I opened the door and the bell chimed elegantly. Inside the shoes and boots were arranged on the shelves like pieces of art, only one pair of each style on display. In the middle of the shop the handbags reclined on a long oak table that had been polished until it shone like a mirror.
The saleswoman stared at me as I picked one of the gold evening sandals. She wore a well-cut black suit and her make-up was immaculate. Her hair looked as if it didn’t move.
‘Can I help you?’ she said, not meaning a word of it.
‘Do you have these in an eight?’ I asked.
‘I’ll have to check,’ she said, not moving. ‘We don’t sell many eights. It’s rather a large size.’
I didn’t answer. Eventually she moved herself to the store room. In spite of her smart appearance, she was wearing decidedly un-chic flat brown lace-ups. It must be very hard on her feet, all that running about and attending to customers.
I looked at the other shoes. There was a beautiful pair of white peep-toe courts with butterflies on the toes, just right for a summer wedding. Next to them was a pair of olive green suede boots with pink stitching on the seams. I loved them too, but I had plenty of boots, even if none of them was green. On the shelf below was a pair of metallic pink mules with kitten heels. There was a matching bag and I was so tempted, but I had to be strict with myself. I was here for the gold evening sandals.
The saleswoman returned and handed me the box. ‘Here you are,’ she said ungraciously.
I opened the box. The shoes nestled together, wrapped in tissue. I took them out. They were so beautiful.
‘I’d like to try them on.’ I took off my trainers and socks.
A strangled noise came from the saleswoman, but my feet are always well cared for and the crimson nail polish was immaculate. I rolled up my jeans and slipped the shoes on, carefully fastening the straps, then stood up. They were a perfect fit. The saleswoman’s eyes were bulging. I walked up and down, turning in front of the mirror. Fabulous.
‘I’ll take them.’ I took off the shoes and handed them to her.
She took the shoes and the box to the till while I put my socks and trainers back on. I walked over to her and presented my credit card. She snatched it out of my hand and shoved it in the machine. I entered my PIN. Transaction completed, she gave me the bag with my new shoes inside.
I’ve always had small feet for a man.