A few nights ago, my lawfully wedded husband’s (hereafter referred to as Mr. TheHiatus, or Mr.TH for short) office held a cocktail dinner – it being the end of the year, Christmas and all that.
Finally, I had a legitimate reason to wear something other than sweaters and jeans. Better yet, I had a reason to wear heels.
Yes, my friends. In the midst of all that was happening in the world at the time, my main concern was which pair of shoes would go with the outfit I had planned to wear. What little sense of perspective I had was thrown out the window.
Yeah so Egypt may slide into dictatorship – but should I wear the black pair or the nude pair?
And yes, in 2014 Catalonia may decide to secede from Spain – black. Yes, definitely the black ones.
After an entire year of wearing nothing but sensible footwear, I was admittedly looking forward to the chance to take my babies out of their boxes and re-introduce them to the outside world.
World peace and global depression can wait.
Frivolity, thy name is Alma.
Suffice to say, the night ended with an aching back and feet that felt as if they’d been crushed to bits. I fear Basel has added years to my feet.
Or maybe… I just need new shoes? 🙂