Thursday lunchtime found me in need of shopping, specifically shopping down the other end of Victoria Street. If I had been working in the Mother Ship, I would have hopped on a bus. In my current satellite that would have involved crossing Broad Sanctuary and then crossing back over Victoria Street, and there is a big hole in Victoria Street in that direction. So I walked. And then I realised that I would have to walk back because
- Parliament Street was closed to traffic, including buses, between Parliament Square and Downing Street
- a soft top Mini's drivers were being interrogated in the road outside Scotland Yard with police in red cars wielding machine guns, causing traffic congestion
- I had left my Oyster Card in the office
I have a pair of boots, which I call my Waity Katy Boots.
They are comfortable enough for wearing round to and form and round work every day, but they were never designed for pounding the pavements of London.
One of the things I bought was a birthday card for Nephew#2's 4th birthday, so I thought I would post it on the way home. To my surprise, I couldn't find a post box anywhere near Parliament Square. I thought I would catch a bus to Trafalgar Square where I know the Post Office has a late-ish collection. Then I remembered, no buses between Parliament Square and Horse Guards. So I walked and walked and discovered that there are no Post boxes between Parliament Square and the Post Office at Charing Cross. Security, I expect. Having walked all the way I felt very foot-sore, and yet, energised.
I walked on again, to Covent Garden and into the Doc Martens shop, where I was delivered of a pair of shoes in black and pink, which is not quite what it seems, actually looking more like a metallic brown, and a pair of 8 eyelet bovver boots.
I have been breaking the shoes in round the house, so hopefully, I shall have two pairs of shoes that are comfortable enough to wear all day, including pounding of the famously hard pavements of London.
Those of you paying close attention to my twits will have noticed an excited running commentary on the sorting of my hosiery collection, which uncovered no less than ten pairs of opaque brown tights. I have always been a fan of opaque tights; it's only really opaque tights that enduces me to wear skirts in winter. So, armed with black-and-pink-but-looking-brown shoes, and brown tights, I suspect I shall spend rather a lot of time in brown skirts,at leats until the weather gets beyond the wearing of opaque tights stage. At which I shall gravitate to floaty skirts and bovver boots.
Having sorely neglected my shoe collection for several years when there was nothing but crap available, I am rather pleased at the effortless way I am building it up again. I wish I could wear high heels, in fact I wish I could wear heels full stop, but I can't. I admit that it might be partly due to my unacceptable weight/foot-size ratio meaning my soles take a pounding, but it is probably more to do with the fact that,most of the time, I favour comfort and safety over the dubious sexual allure of teetering precariously. I was amused to read the great palaver over Michelle Obama's 'trademark' flats. Is it really that big a deal. she doesn't exactly come across as an airhead. Plus she's tall (which I'm not).
