very very old

In my ever-continuing quest for shoes to wear, I decided to have a clear-out to determine exactly what I do and do not have.

I ended up throwing away one pair of cheap red plastic ballet flats which were never actually comfortable.

I know, I'm a good clear-outer.

There was one pair of shoes I really struggled over. My grandma bought them for me when I was 11 years old; yes, they are that old. Any sign of where they came from has been erased by wear from the shoe and by time from my memory. I can remember trying them on in a shoe shop in central London, and agonising whether to buy these or another red velvet pair. I can remember they were expensive. But that's it - no concrete details.

Anyway, I stopped wearing them a few years ago when they started pinching my toes a bit too unbearably. The funny thing is, they are white, which you would imagine to be the least durable colour possible, and indeed they are pretty scruffy. They are not, unsurprisingly, particularly fashionable. But I still can't stand to throw them out.

So the other day I need to put some shoes on really quickly, as I was running late. Post clear-out, my old shoes were resting somewhere near the top of the sea of shoes that is my footwear chest. I put them on for the first time in years and actually ended up running in them in an effort to get to my destination on time. It was pretty painful.

But I didn't get any blisters and now somehow the shoes feel a lot bigger. They must have stretched. I am pretty delighted and I'm going to wear and wear and wear them now until they fall apart. Then I'll have to investigate methods of preservation and mummification of very very old shoes.