Why I love… Birks

Oooh, I’m terribly excited today. I received a big parcel in the post. A cardboard box all the way from Germany. I LOVE LOVE LOVE getting parcels in the post. As much as I love the internet and the ease of communication it affords us all, I can’t help but silently curse it for being one of the main reasons I do not get letters or parcels anymore. I miss it so much. The slightly unkempt white envelopes not much worse for wear. With the red and blue lines along the sides and grubby stamps stuck clumsily at the corner. And big, fat packages with loads of masking tape holding the box together and important looking stickers of all kinds.

And that unmistakable sense of agony and ecstasy mixed up in the sense of: ‘I-can’t-wait-to-open-it-Oh-but-I-want-to-go-slow-because-this-whole-experience-is-so-delish’

It was a gift from me to me. 2 pairs of Birkenstock sandals and clogs. My favourite kind of shoes. Some people think they look clunky and inelegant. Which is true, I guess but then again, so am I so I can get away with it.

My mother almost passes out when she sees them on my feet. My mother believes that any shoes that do not attempt to permanently alter the shape of your foot or threaten to cut off blood circulation to your toes, are unfeminine. So to her, these are practically human hooves. At least I’m not wearing Crocs, for God’s sake. If I did, I’d probably send her straight into a coma.

I’ll keep this in mind. These kinds of ideas are like apples falling on Newton’s head.

One Comment Add yours

  1. Anonymous says:

    Hahaha…am still laughing over the comments you’ve made about your mother seeing those shoes! In my part of the world, in winter if anyone wears footwear that is open the first thought I get is “oh god, I hope she does not get a frost bite”


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