In a departure from regular scheduling (partly because I’m struggling to think of any interesting characters, but mostly because I’m struggling to think full stop) I am going to today blather at you, my mostly imaginary readers, about slippers.
Yes. This is what I have been reduced to.
First, some reminiscing.
When I was younger, we lived in what was once two or three very small farm houses, that had been frankensteined together into one, fairly large country house. It wasn’t particularly ancient or crumbly, but it did get damp, and it could be quite cold – especially as the radiator in mine and Ivy’s bedroom didn’t work for a good year before someone twigged and fixed it.
Now, I’m a fairly ‘hot’ person (in the entirely literal sense). When my uni housemates were wrapping in duvets and cranking the heating up, I would come in in my shorts and t-shirts and turn it down, while they watched, shivering all the more. I have internal thermostat issues. But, even with said issues, I did get really cold feet, especially on the tiled kitchen floor, while making lunch boxes up for my sisters with Ivy at about half seven in the morning, usually while our mother remained warm and toasty in bed. She’s not a morning person. I totally understand this now, being not much of a morning person these days myself.
To counteract the icy floor, I was given a pair of black and white spotted slippers.
As a rule, I hate slippers. I hate the overly chunky base that makes you feel you’re teetering on a platform. I hate the way they don’t have backs and fall off all the time. I hate the stupid novelty animals that get put on the front, making them highly impractical to wear anytime except when sitting down – when you could be sat on your feet anyway, using your own body heat to keep your extremities toasty.
These slippers though, these were the royalty of the slipper world. They were more like little shoes, with full foot coverage and elasticated backing so your feet never fell out. I wore them to death, literally.
I had another pair recently that were more like a pair of socks with a sole than anything. They were breast cancer slippers and therefore pink with little ribbons on. Very cute, but they weren’t very sturdy. I wore them out very rapidly.
Last year at this time, both my mother and I suffered with chilblains on our feet from the extreme cold weather. While the temperature so far has barely achieved frosty, never mind the arctic -18s we were seeing last year, I have no intention of being as uncomfortable this year. So, I’ve bought myself some slippers.
They are hideous. Fluffy enough to trigger the Boyfriend’s feather aversion, ridiculously tight around my legs, so I can’t pull them on properly – their only redeeming features was the fact they cost all of four pounds.
I’m really hoping someone remedies my slipper problem for Christmas, but I doubt anyone would dare. It’s like trying to cook for the fussiest eater – you just know they aren’t going to be satisfied.
With moving into the new house happening imminently (more on that when things start moving) money will be tight after Christmas, but I’m hoping to catch a bit of luck in the sales and part with a small amount of money to satisfy my slipper needs.
After all, if I can have gorgeous shoes, why can’t I have equally gorgeous slippers?