Disco (queen) fever

There are two kinds of shoes in the world: Sensible Shoes, and Crazies. These blush-gold glitter espadrille-heel wedges definitely fall into the latter category (probably taking their wearer along and breaking her ankle into the bargain.)

I tripped over them in that shining emporium of chic, Primark in Hammersmith. They were rolling about on the floor in a pile of faux-Uggs and chunky nude patent stiletto pumps. It was as if Marie Antoinette had her Ville D’Avray spiked, got thrown into a time machine, paused in 1980 to pick up Olivia Newton-John (Xanadu-era), and they emerged in an episode of TOWIE – in the wrong place, at the wrong time, but somehow still... not completely wrong.

Natch, I tried them on. They are bloody uncomfortable. Head said, “Don’t be ridiculous. Where could you wear them?” Heart said, “A place where nobody dared to go / They call it Xanadu-ooo-oooo...” Sometimes it’s just easier not to argue, know what I mean?