Reasons why Fran is getting cold feet (and that's not a cliche)
I'm unreasonably excited about getting my new pair of slippers. This is what they look like.
I never used to wear slippers. I'd always schlupped around in socks, going 'oof, oof' on the cold kitchen tiles in the winter. My husband would urge, 'Get yourself some slippers and stop oofing' and I'd look at him and say, 'I may have some parts of my body which have gone south in search of new adventures, and maybe I do watch 'Flog It' on my days off, but I am not yet old enough to wear slippers.'
Why did I think they were a sign that the End was Nigh? I don't know.
Two Christmases ago, not long after I became a Grandma and it seemed futile to hang on to my youth, in the same way it's futile for someone to cling hopefully on to a cliff edge who's got honey on their fingers, I decided it was time. I was in Marks & Spencer, thinking, 'But these all look like care home slippers' when, there they were: my destiny. Exactly like those in the picture above, they looked at me and said, 'Come on. You know you want to. We're not care-home slippers. We're cool. And how much longer can you go oof-oof on the kitchen tiles?'
Within days, I was a slave to them. Barely had I fallen inside the door at the end of the working day before I had tossed away my shoes, caring not where they landed, so I could nestle tired, I've-walked-down-forty-three-school-corridors-today feet into my size 7, fluffy black slippers.
The Anglo-Saxons, who couldn't be doing with boring nouns like 'slippers' and were very keen on using compound words called kennings in their poetry, would have called them foot-socks, or toe-houses, or feet-warmstorers or toe-cuddlers. (Any other ideas, followers?)
Alas, one cannot wear a pair of toe-cuddlers day in day out without having to face their demise at some point. I binned them at the end of January and have been waiting on the nice people at M & S to have my size in stock. I refuse to countenance any other sort. And on Saturday I can go to collect them.
Meanwhile, I've been back to oof-oofing on the kitchen tiles. I've tried wearing a pair of very thick socks but our steep stairs are wooden and slippery. As I still haven't watched a variety of classic films I need to catch up on, and I'd like to visit Dublin one day, and there are varieties of chocolate biscuits I haven't yet tried, I daren't risk mortal injury that way.
Saturday is going to be some moment, housing my toes once again. I may not leave the house for several weeks.
I never used to wear slippers. I'd always schlupped around in socks, going 'oof, oof' on the cold kitchen tiles in the winter. My husband would urge, 'Get yourself some slippers and stop oofing' and I'd look at him and say, 'I may have some parts of my body which have gone south in search of new adventures, and maybe I do watch 'Flog It' on my days off, but I am not yet old enough to wear slippers.'
Why did I think they were a sign that the End was Nigh? I don't know.
Two Christmases ago, not long after I became a Grandma and it seemed futile to hang on to my youth, in the same way it's futile for someone to cling hopefully on to a cliff edge who's got honey on their fingers, I decided it was time. I was in Marks & Spencer, thinking, 'But these all look like care home slippers' when, there they were: my destiny. Exactly like those in the picture above, they looked at me and said, 'Come on. You know you want to. We're not care-home slippers. We're cool. And how much longer can you go oof-oof on the kitchen tiles?'
Within days, I was a slave to them. Barely had I fallen inside the door at the end of the working day before I had tossed away my shoes, caring not where they landed, so I could nestle tired, I've-walked-down-forty-three-school-corridors-today feet into my size 7, fluffy black slippers.
The Anglo-Saxons, who couldn't be doing with boring nouns like 'slippers' and were very keen on using compound words called kennings in their poetry, would have called them foot-socks, or toe-houses, or feet-warmstorers or toe-cuddlers. (Any other ideas, followers?)
Alas, one cannot wear a pair of toe-cuddlers day in day out without having to face their demise at some point. I binned them at the end of January and have been waiting on the nice people at M & S to have my size in stock. I refuse to countenance any other sort. And on Saturday I can go to collect them.
Meanwhile, I've been back to oof-oofing on the kitchen tiles. I've tried wearing a pair of very thick socks but our steep stairs are wooden and slippery. As I still haven't watched a variety of classic films I need to catch up on, and I'd like to visit Dublin one day, and there are varieties of chocolate biscuits I haven't yet tried, I daren't risk mortal injury that way.
Saturday is going to be some moment, housing my toes once again. I may not leave the house for several weeks.
 |
| Fran really had been wearing those slippers for far too long. Time for the chiropodist to call. |
STOP PRESS. See here for a distressing update on the slipper situation.
Size 7??? Blimey.
ReplyDeleteI've long been a slipper advocate - and at Christmas, mum bought me the ultimate 'smart slipper' from one of those catalogues that are included with the Sunday papers.
These take me from going up the side passage putting out the bins, hanging the washing out, to a cosy Sunday evening in front of the fire in a red fleece onsie with Countryfile and a pastoral scene jigsaw.
Is Size 7 big? Oh dear. But you paint a very visual image of your Sunday evenings. I can see it very clearly!
DeleteI like the ones with the toenails.
ReplyDeleteWell, they'd certainly put any cold callers off if you met them at the door in those.
DeleteYour mistake was binning the old slippers before you had the new ones safely home.
ReplyDeleteI love the bear claw slippers, but not the ones with no back, I like my whole foot warm, not just my toes.
I know - I shouldn't have binned them so early - but they wouldn't stay on my feet, they were so decrepit.
DeleteYou're supposed to be a certain age before you wear slippers? I had no idea. I've worn them for at least 25 years. I have different slippers for different weather conditions. I even have light, open-toe slippers for summer. I don't like to walk around barefoot because of the palmetto bugs. When I find a pair of slippers I really like, I buy more of them while they're available because God doesn't love me quite enough to always have my favorite slippers on hand.
ReplyDeleteLove and moroseness,
Janie
Oh yuk. I just looked up palmetto bugs.
DeleteThey can fly, unlike ordinary cockroaches.
DeleteEeeeuuurrgggghhhh!
DeleteYour kennings made me laugh but I don't have the chops to come up with any of my own suggestions.
ReplyDeleteGo on ... you know you can ....
DeleteSole cushions? Heel armour? Foot lockers?
ReplyDeleteSole cushions ... yes, that just about says it.
Delete"Toe-houses". Love it, that's what my slippers will be called in the future. A word up there with "petrol-donkey" in terms of a glorious addition to the English language.
ReplyDeleteSpread it around. Next year it could make the OED if we say it often enough, although I think we have to say it in writing for the OED to be convinced.
DeleteI hate wearing anything at all on mt feet , unless I have to . But , when it's snowed and the town's turned into a skating rink , I wear 2 pairs of sturdy socks , one pair inside my boots and a second , larger pair over my boots .
ReplyDeleteThe 'outside' pair stops one skidding on icy pavements .
( And no , this doesn't work on steep , shiny stairs for some reason . )
I have a pair of walking boots too now which I always resisted in my younger days, thinking flip flops a perfectly reasonable choice in blizzards. Ah, what it is to be young and thoroughly stupid.
DeleteI felt the same as you about slippers until mu daughter gave me some lovely furry booty things from the White Company. They're wonderful. Enjoy yours!
ReplyDeleteI am going to be in slipper heaven this time next week.
DeleteI'm both a socks-only and a slipper person, depending on my mood and whether or not I can remember where I left my toe-houses / tread-softeners.
ReplyDeleteThis post has given me greater empathy for the inner-city teens who would not only wear flannel pajama bottoms to school, but the footwear to match.
Tread-softeners! Brilliant!
DeleteSlippers also preserve toes from stubbing accidents. I like slippers that can do some outdoor duty as well. Yours are too pretty for that.
ReplyDeleteNo worries here. I rarely go outdoors unless forced.
DeleteI had no idea you were so anti-slipper for so long. But come to think of it, you're not a slippery sort of person really. Perhaps you will completely change personality now (hope not!) Great post with a lorra laughs, as ever :)
ReplyDeleteI'm glad to hear you don't think of me as a slippery person.
DeleteMy size sevens are well worn suede mules with rubber soles which I can go outside in to feed the birds - a simple pleasure. I am often heard uttering, " where are my slippers ? " around five pm.
ReplyDeleteYou sound very Mary Poppinsy in that comment!
Deletefunny as I was a nanny once !
DeleteHa ha!
Delete