Note: I found this post in my email inbox, where I’d sent it to myself but forgotten to post. Behold! Unearthed from the mists of long-ago March!
I think this winter will be the Winter of Saving Money, which lies ahead of my like some bleak, arctic … winter. Yeah. Not so much with the metaphors today. But! Don’t forget that it’s still summer, and so the money is still slipping through my fingers like water! So far I have spent my Christmas bonus about 18 times, as well as saving it so that I also bathed in the righteous glow of saving.
Anyway, as well as various fripperies I can’t even remember, I wandered into a shoe shop last week. Sale! Camper sale! With all the shoes in my size! It’s like some horrible, wonderful dream. Because half-price Campers are still, well, full-price other shoes. Sigh. What to do? Try them on, obviously. For some reason they had their winter boots on sale too. Why? I don’t know. Maybe they were last season’s which didn’t sell? Cannot say. So I tried on a pair of brown slouchy suede boots. Not really my thing, but … lean closer so I can whisper … I am boot-challenged. I am calfally enhanced. Oh, screw the whispering. GIGANTOR CALF MUSCLES, PEOPLE. Believe me, I am mindful of the fact that after my earlier too-short pyjama entry, I will seem like some short-bodied, calftastic freak. And that’s an impression I’m happy to give. This is the internet! If I can’t distort the perception of my body image here, what else is left? Anyway, giant calf muscles. I blame tennis. And my mum, for the genetics. And whoever else I can think of at the time.
Anyway, as a result, I cannot fit knee-high boots. Impossible. Cannot zip them up. And hence I was looking at the slouchy boots, which did fit, but which ended right at the widest point of my calf, cutting off the lower part of my leg which narrows into ankle and giving the pleasing effect of my entire leg being as thick as a tree stump. Sigh. “Oh, wait!” said the salesgirl. “If you want suede boots, we have a few more pairs!” Yeah, like it will help me. She brings out … knee high black suede boots with ribbon trim. COVET. “Can’t fit them,” I say resignedly. She eyes me up. “Yes you can.” No, I can’t, honestly. I won’t be able to zip them up.” “Oh, these are suede. They will stretch. I bet I can zip them up on you, we can get boots on anyone.”
And so followed one of the most Monty Python-esque moments of my life. Think of the Ministry of Silly Walks, but while sitting down, with not one but TWO salesgirls trying to zip up a knee-high boot on a leg they are contorting into many different and completely random positions. Oh, and picture it happening in the mall marketed as the Fashion Capital. (Hi, fashionistas! Sorry for bringing down the tone of your Capital!) Panting and exhausted, they stopped with about 10cm to go (yes that’s a long way). “We PROMISE you they’ll stretch.” “Yeah, they’ll definitely stretch.” “Definitely.”
I believed them. I WANTED to believe them. I sort of didn’t, but I really wanted it to be true. So I bought the boots. Probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done. In fact, NOT one of the smartest things I’ve ever done.
So when Mr. T got home that night, I was flailing around on the lounge floor in stark contrast to the graceful Winter Olympians on the TV beside me. I was able to get them up to the point the salesgirls had, but no higher. I detailed my dilemma. Mr. T took it as a personal challenge. And without further ado, grabbed a leg, squished the boot around it and started zipping. Unfortunately for my leg, there was also a vigorous pummeling motion with the thumbs, quite in the manner of a sausage being extruded into a casing. Charming, no? Don’t forget to add in the sounds of my yelping: “Ow ow ow OW OW! I AM NOT AN ANIMAL! OWWWW!” As usual, he ignored me and within 10 seconds had the entire boot zipped up. I stared at it in awe. “I can’t feel my foot.” “I saw it go in, it’s definitely there.” “I think I’m having an embolism in there.” “Circulation is for sissies.” “I’m very impressed.” “Don’t be, I still have to do that other leg.” “Ow ow OWWW!”
So yes. I have knee high boots. Only problem is, I can never take them off again.