I have finally graduated from being the barefoot woman who has kicked off her expensive new heels to the one in the sensible flats
You know those features where writers reveal the advice they wish they could give their younger selves? And they are always really erudite and wistful, poignant and touching? Well, this is sort of one of those. Sort of. OK, without the erudite, wistful, poignant or touching parts. But still important.
I am talking about high heels. Specifically, how much I wish I could give my younger self a talking to about not spending insane amounts on shoes I couldn’t walk in. As heart-swelling, motivational speeches go, this is not, admittedly, up there with Robin Williams imploring us to carpe diem in Dead Poets Society. But I really wish I had known then what seems obvious now. Which is that good-time shoes that you can’t have a good time in because your feet hurt are a total waste of money.
Related: What I wore this week: white boots | Jess Cartner-Morley
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