I have a confession to make…I heart dresses. And shoes. And most other things in between for that matter. I can’t help it, it’s a condition I have been battling with my whole life and as of yet, have found no known cure (Husband, if you are reading this you may wish to look away now…). At last count I had in excess of 40 dresses (not including those in storage as that would have made my head hurt), and that was after a wardrobe spring clean. And of course, where there are dresses, shoes naturally have to follow. Let’s just say I could paint the colours of the rainbow several times over before running out of pretty things to slip my little toes into.
Now, like with any good therapy session, we should be able to trace and attribute a catalyst for this (what some might call) Irrational Purchasing Behaviour. Well, I blame my mother. Yes, it was Mother Dear who forced me kicking and screaming (literally) into wearing sensible footwear as a child whilst my friends were the epitome of primary school chic in their ‘slip on’s’ and high heels (well, they were high to us anyway). Mother, look what you have done!
I vividly remember one particularly harrowing shopping experience at the tender age of 7 or 8. We were shoe shopping for Little Me. Hurrah! We walked into the store and within 0.023 of a second I had fallen head over heels (pun intended) in love with the prettiest lemon coloured, strapped, heeled sandals that I ever did see. I turned to my mother full of glee and hope, and in turn, my mother turned to me with a pair of trainers. In my size. TRAINERS. Cue the biggest meltdown in the history of pre-teen tantrums from yours truly. I know, hard to believe, but it’s true (to my shame). The outcome of this little shopping expedition (other than being scarred for life) was the purchase of 2 pairs of shoes. A pair of beautiful yellow sandals (win for me) and a horrid, boyish pair of grey trainers that still send shivers down my spine for their sheer awfulness (win for mother). When I got home the sandals went straight on my feet and I still remember that feeling of warm happiness that this one little pair of shoes gave me. The trainers? Well, let’s just say they were good company for the shoe box they lived in for the rest of eternity.
Fast forward twenty (something) years and I can still only wear trainers for actually running in (which is surely the only reason anyone would ever wear them, right?). And they are pink. And pretty. And kept pristine at all times. I may not have gotten over my trainer issues yet by the way.
So, as you may have sensed, I rather like to discuss all things style related. Hence the page title, A Stylish You. Watch out for the weekly drooling over my latest fashion crush. You have been warned…
Love, Emma x