Shoe Fetish

Like a lot of women I have a shoe fetish (I’ve also spent a small fortune on corsets but that deserves its own post). This weekend I did something bad while waiting for a friend. I brought a new pair on impulse, no planning, no saving, I just did it.

I popped into a very large, but very bad shop for a little window shopping (I had an hour to kill) and I saw them, red, high, shiny and strappy. The brand has let me down in the past with narrow fitting and short ankle straps, but I thought I’d try my luck anyway. There was three of the same shoe sitting in a line next to a big sign informing me that there was 30% off.

I picked up the first, a size 36, too small.
I picked up the last, a size 41, too big.
I picked up the middle one, a size 39, just right!

I sat in the chair and took my foot out of my comfy sandal, pushing it to one side with my toes. I placed the red stiletto in front of me and hoovered my right foot above the gold lined sole. I lowered my foot and it slipped straight in. The one inch wide strip of red patent leather held my toes in its soft grip, perfectly.

I lent down and grasped the red strap, muttering that I would amazed if it was long enough. I pulled the strap through the buckle and pulled it tight, pulling until the strap was tight around my ankle, the holes in the strap easily fitted onto the buckle, releasing the pressure on my skin.

When the girl appeared with the box containing the partner for the shoe on my right foot she placed it on the chair next to me and pulled the left shoe and presented it me in both hands.

With the both on, I was only three inches taller, but felt much more than that. Everything about these shoes fitted. The colour, the shape, the size, I could stand AND walk in them…even the price. They had to be mine.

I paid the girl and because I was off to an all day event I had to leave my purchase there, in their care until I was able to return to pick them up.

I returned the next day to pick up my first pair of Malono Blahnik’s