Monday, February 19, 2007

Slip-on Shoes

Believe it or not but The Chipster’s not known for his fashion sense. To be fair, it’s not called for in my line of work. It’s a bit like asking a bus driver if he has good cufflinks. It doesn’t help him drive a bus. Well, the same’s true of me and my clothes. Some say I’m scruffy and some prefer not to t say anything at all. I draw the line at wearing tracksuits but I never go so far as to wear a suit if I can help it. I suppose that I’m conservative in my choice of clothes, like a poor college lecturer, until we reach my thong. When we get down there, thongs usually get interesting. The rest usually end up thrown on the floor somewhere.

Yet the one place where I do insist on buying quality is in my choice of shoes. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ll soon be jetting off to Washington. I’ll be on my heels most of the time when I get there so I thought it was about time I bought myself a pair of shoes. A good pair of shoes. I skimped when it came to buying my last pair. I bought them from eBay. Worst bargain I’ve ever made. For the last couple of months, my hips have been aching whenever I walk more than a mile. And when shoes start to affect a man’s capacity for hip thrusts then you know it is time to act.

I’d been putting it off too long but when I found myself hobbling through Bangor today I made a snap decision. I walked straight into Clarks, which happened to be the closest shoe shop. They may not be known for being at the forefront of fashion but fashion had led me to buy the black leather boots with the narrow steel toe caps that have been crippling me for too long. Today was the day when I gave up trying to ‘wear them in’ and I bought myself a plain pair of black slip-ons.

It was a world of difference and I’ve been jaunty ever since. I gave my boots to homeless guy I met in town. So if you ever see a bum hobbling around Bangor in a very impressive pair of boots, you’ll know I’m telling the truth.

The odd thing about this whole event, and the reason I’m telling you this, is that I’ve never bought slip-on shoes before. It’s like the world has suddenly started to revolve the other way on its axis. With boots, you come to expect them to be easy to put on and take off. But I’ve always bought shoes with laces. I don’t know. They always seemed to give me sense of reassurance. By buying slip-ons today, I overcome a psychological block I’ve been suffering all these years.

Why have I always bought shoes with laces? What do laces symbolise? There’s a part of my brain that likes the comfort of laces. But then another part of me is attracted to the freedom of the slip-on. It’s one of those struggles between reason and passion, between fate and chance.

I bought slip-ons today and the world suddenly seemed to open up to many more possibilities.

2 comments:

Peter Stitch-ons said...

I like a nice pair of shoes. I have for a while been earning a good living in central London with bookings being particularly brisk in the Doughty Street area. My stage name is Peter Stitch-Ons in tribute to the popular Daily Mail columnist Peter Hitchens.

Unfortunately I was disturbed the other night by a chap on my intercom calling himself The Real Peter Stitch-Ons, saying that I was "obscuring his talent" and that he was "fed up with being downsized". Apparently, I'm an impersonator!

Well, I think we sorted it out by me agreeing to change my name to Peter Not-a-Stitch-Ons and by dividing London up into "Congestion Charge East" and "Congestion Charge West", although I think I did hear him mutter that Doughty Street would "look more like Peckham High Street" if I wandered into his patch again.

Anyway, I rely on you Chippy to keep me up to date with the world of political stripping so keep it up!

PS. I keep getting my nihilists, my nepotists and my narcissists mixed up.

Chippy said...

Stich-ons, I know the trouble. I think it's a problem when there are only so many domains and user names to go around. I'm just glad that Mr. Dale has been so understanding about it and hasn't chosen to come cycling up my path.

I'll certainly try to keep you up to date, though I must admit that I was talking to a young lady here in Bangor this afternoon and I too got confused about the terms. I couldn't really be expected to know the difference between nihilists, necrophiliacs, narcoleptics, narcissists, and nymphomaniacs could I? I'm sure she told me she was into necrophilia and I thought it meant that she fell asleep at a moment's notice. It took a long time before I realised my mistake.