Matching your shoes to your hotel carpet…
Both Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits and I have been ill with a glandular fever-esque virus for a few days. It sucked. We got snarky, over-dosed on Season 4 of The Good Wife and I slept more than I have so far this year.
I attempted to go to work on Monday – I managed a little over two hours in situ, but with my tolerance levels at an all time low I thought that I should leave before I started on a squeakily terrifying laryngitis riddled tirade of abuse that was bubbling up inside me. I made it home, Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits saw my sweaty little face and attempted to cheer me up by liberating the shoes I bought in London. They were were hostages for over a week and he wanted some thanks. I think not !
I made it in today, called a few clients, dealt with an alarming amount of emails and boxed up and returned some little parcels of loveliness that weren’t quite right. I’ve come home, tackled the ironing, done the dishes, made some calls, and done some jobs for Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits for his early start tomorrow. In short, I’ve achieved more in the last 14 hours than I have over the last 5 days.
It’s good to have a bit of a spring back in my step, and I’m feeling a lot more like my old self.
I’ve been absent without leave from the blogosphere, which means that I’ve been busy. And when I say busy, I mean sleep-deprived busy. As has Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits.
Which is why we were stunned, dazed and confused when our schedules combined within a 2.5 mile radius in London on Monday. We were in the same place at the same time. In the 10 years we’ve lived south of the border, this is unheard of.
I quickly booked a hotel for us in Kensington for Sunday night – this meant that we could get up slowly on Sunday and head through to the big smoke for the day. We could shop, we could enjoy a glass of wine or two, and then we could shop. Between us we bought three pairs of shoes, two for me one for him. This is a normal and healthy ratio for a female:male shoe-off. Although, I haven’t seen my new shoes since then. Hmm, I may be the victim of a hostage situation – he may actually be holding me to the ‘one pair in, one pair out rule’. I don’t remember that discussion over late night gin in a tin.
We did all that and more and headed off our separate ways on Monday morning. My conference was less than a 30 minute tube ride away, Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits was a 15 minute drive away so I left for work later than I do every day I’m in the office – a brilliant start to a Monday I find. He finished filming 30 minutes earlier than I did and came to collect me so that we could drive home together. My own windswept and interesting chauffeur – all I had to do was keep a steady supply of coffee and chewing gum flowing on the journey home.
I’m still in a state of shock, and no matter what this week has since thrown at me, I remain well and truly inside my happy bubble.
Thus, our once in a decade day will be remembered as happily as eating warm apple strudel in the restaurant at the top of Grossglockner.
Breaking these beauties in as we speak…
Buy them from Clarks here
I have 7 working days left before I go on my summer holiday – this is both fabulous and daunting.
I’m really looking forward to 10 days off travelling around with Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits who also needs a break as he’s been working his derriere off. We’re not very good at staying in one place and relaxing, we get cabin fever so we’re flying off to Europe on a 10 day road trip. I love road trips – he drives and I read interesting things out of guide books to him (in between naps). We roam and take photos all the while looking for interesting coffee shops and enticing patisseries. He loves mountains and I love the sea – our last break was to the seaside, therefore this time we’re heading to the Alps.
And so, I’m in countdown mode – frantically crossing items off my work to-do lists and adding more onto the bottom. It’s comforting (kind of) and it relaxes my control freak mentality. But the best part of all is reworking the holiday essentials packing list, tweaking and amending ad infinitum until it’s perfect. The red wedge hi tops are en route to me so here’s hoping that they fit – if not, I’ve found an alternative pair in town so all is not lost. I showed them to the Mr and he was surprised at how nearly practical they were – I’ll take that as approval then. Although my Mum, on hearing that I needed yet more shoes, lamented the loss of my white kicker boots that I’d had since primary school (yes that would make them more than 30 years old) which would have done me just fine ! Ho hum, you can’t win them all.
Lots of folks are coming back from their summer break rip roaring and ready to go. I’ve certainly noticed a renewed energy from those returning to work anyways.
But spare a thought for those of us who haven’t taken more than a few days off this summer – those of us who have battled on through the heat waves, the monsoon rain and the thunderstorms that have defined this epic summer.
But don’t feel too bad for me since we’re heading off for a 10 day break in less than 2 weeks time (hooray). However, it does mean more stress at work trying to get everything done before I go (and that’s quite the list).
I’ve compiled my holiday packing list too, but in doing so have realised that I need a new pair of trainers as I’m only taking 3 pairs of shoes with me – wearing one pair and packing two more. I’m taking the lovely yellow wedge sandals, some khaki Birkenstocks that go with everything but I also need something a bit more practical – a pair that are both supportive and good looking for some more strenuous activity. I was going to take my walking boots, but they’re just too ugly and only look good with some suitably outdoorsy clothes. So this weekend has been spent trawling the internet for something practical and stylish – and that’s easier said than done.
I’m also getting in those last batch of workouts and have averaged 3-4 a week at the moment which is pretty good for me. I may not be quite bikini fit yet, but I’m not that far off from where I want to be. So I’ll continue hitting the gym with gusto knowing that it’s doing me some kind of good – all the while getting rid of the muffin tops.
So off I go to have one last look and fill that online shopping cart, I need to do it soon so that I can break them in before we go. Well, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it 🙂
I sometimes use colour to define my mood, or even to improve it if I can.
Earlier this week I posted “Walking on sunshine” – my little yellow shoes exude happiness, I wore a matching yellow jacket to get the full happiness quota in. The reaction of those around me was surprising, even the concierge at work commented on how lovely they were. The one aspect of wearing bright colours is that you have to be feeling pretty brave, it’s just because they demand attention. Our eyes are drawn to bright colours. In nature, they can show great beauty but can also be used as a sign of danger, or to stay away.
I wear red if I’m scared or want to look confident, navy and purples suit my colouring so I try to wear as much of them as I can, and khaki is my dress down colour, my off duty wardrobe.
I don’t always get it right – I was wearing a red, white and blue ensemble on the day of Prince George’s birth – a tad bourgeois for my liking. And I’ve learned never to wear head to toe cream or white unless you have guaranteed sunshine (transparent / mud spattered / clingy) or wear full skirted dresses when it’s breezy (you really want to be wearing biggish pants on those occasions). But embracing colour can be a huge mood-lifter.
I went through a decade long phase (early 20s to early 30s) of wearing pretty much nothing but black – I liked it. I liked to look alternative, I liked that everything matched. But it was drab, painfully so. And so I slowly introduced colour to my wardrobe. Depending on my mood I can colour-block with the best of them, look elegant in muted hues or opt for a clever contrast combo. But I draw the line at beige – I want to look sophisticated and together, but the reality is that I feel beige when I wear it. So, it is the end of beige. Apart from a lovely pair of nude peep toe shoes – because, if nothing else they elongate the leg. And that’s something I’m in dire need of.