I’ve always had this weird hang-up about my feet. They’re small, which I like; but they’re also really wide, which usually means I have to go a shoe size up. And they’re almost completely flat, which limits my access to cute shoes and more importantly wrecks havoc on my knees. They sweat, a lot, and my heels are usually cracked and ugly. And I have these malformed pinky toes, which I have a half-memory of a chiropodist telling me as a child was because the next stage of human evolution would only need four toes. I’m pretty sure that’s garbage, but I refuse to confirm or deny. (It’s funny the things you cling onto.) The shoes my sister bought me for her wedding were open-toe court shoes: not a style I’d pick out for myself, but she put so much thought into finding a style that gave me a low-heeled option I cry even now when I think about it. But I was nervous of exposing my feet at her beautiful wedding (because, obviously, that’s where the cameras are pointed: at the Eesmee of Honour’s feet). So a few days before the big day – the night I finished up […]
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