‘Elf & safety warning: for those of a sensitive nature there is one expletive in this review but no strobe lighting and definitely no clowns.
Now on with the review. The like of which, has never been written.
That moment when you receive the text to say your order has arrived. Sharp intake of breath.
That moment when after collecting your order, you scuttle home like a demented Gollum, muttering
“My Precious! O my Precious!”
That moment when you open the box and you can see one tip of a toe peeking through the tissue and you actually squeal with excitement.
That moment when you get them out of the box and you sit and stare at them for 5 hours in complete wonder. Ok, it felt like 5 hours. Probably only 5 minutes.
That moment when you say;
“OMG, they are just as divine in real life as when I saw them online.”
That moment when you delicately place them side on, just so you can admire them from another angle, for another 5 hours in complete wonder. Probably only 5 minutes.
That moment when you think, could shoes look any more elegant than these?
That moment when you ponder; if these shoes were chocolate, I’d eat them, they look so blinkin’ delicious.
That moment when you sit on the floor and slip them on and you stare at your feet for another 5 hours in complete wonder. Really, actually for 5 hours this time.
That moment when you think you are THE MOST STYLISH WOMAN THAT EVER LIVED.
Coco Chanel? Pah.
That moment when you look down …. those of a sensitive nature look away – expletive coming… and say;
“F**k me, could these shoes look any more divine with my cigarette pants than they already do?”
That moment when you realise how many outfits will go off the Richter scale, in terms of sartorial swag, you understand, when you wear these shoes.
That moment when you wish you had a private jet you could hop aboard, so you could fly to Paris and effortlessly swan around the boulevards of St Germain whilst wearing them and receive envious glances and gallic sounds of admiration.
That moment when …
… you try and take a step and realise that you can’t actually walk in the b*ggers.
That moment when you realise that your right foot is slip slopping out of the shoe when you walk, like a bar of soap in well-lathered hands.
That moment when you realise your toes are in pain from the death grip of too narrow a pointy toe, despite what the one review on the website says about them being ‘perfect shoes’, and ‘so cute and comfortable, even with my wider fit feet’.
Wider fit feet? Crikey, mine are like the greyhounds of the foot world – sleek, I tell you, SLEEK and these are not comfortable.
That moment when your footwear fantasy comes tumbling down, like a jenga tower when one too many blocks have been removed from the stack.
That moment when no amount of toe wiggling and heel glueing is going to make a blind bit of difference and really, you should just resign yourself to that one, indisputable fact, that is stark staring you in the face but which you don’t want to accept.
That moment when you realise that you agree with small voice of reason when it says;
“You’re going to have to return them.”
So au revoir, beautiful Judy Bow Shoes with your leopard pony effect and block heels. Parting is such bittersweet sorrow. Sadly, you are just not beautiful enough in the way I need you to be, to keep you.
If, by any micro chance, and ‘oh, there goes a flying purple pig’, someone from Topshop actually reads this – don’t fret my lovelies. I do have pointy shoes I bought from you guys, which ARE divine and are beautiful in the way I need them to be, to keep them and you can read all about them on my recent Date Night.
Have you had any bittersweet shoes? Pray tell in the comments below.
Tip of the week: if they ain’t comfortable, they ain’t worth it, however utterly divine they look with your cigarette pants.
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