m i a o w

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Tag: shoes

In the pretty pretty city

Today we began with playgroup – somewhere Small Z likes to go as they have a box of many die-cast Thomas the Tank Engines and friends, as well as a Maithwaite Station and train tracks. I take her to socialise. She hangs with the trains, and I drink tea with the mums and intermittently help cut up fruit, put on smocks, create playdough masterpieces and adjudicate minor conflicts.

After playgroup we drove into the city. That should have big fat flashing neon around it. I have never taken Small Z into the city. The drive there and back was enough to put me off, but we had an appointment with a breast thrush guru. Small Z was a champ and had almost an hours nap in the car. I found a carpark right in front of me on Exhibition Street and thus abandoned my plans to park under the QV building.

Of course we had to wait to see the doctor, and then there was nappy changing, and by the time we got back to the car it was about 20min after the hour that was allowed. Fifty-six dollars later… ARGH!!! What to do? We soothed ourselves by inviting ourselves to Mung’s house for dinner and driving to Northcote to SHOP.

Ordinarily I would be horrified at spending bucks on apparel for Small Z. She is entirely clothed by op-shops and eBay. However, she has just grown out of all her shoes, and despite having many others to go on with, they are all secondhand and I can’t be quite sure that they fit properly. We went into a beautiful shop I had googled up – Big Dreams – and Small Z got some gorgeous red leather shoes and some excellent grey cotton runners. Lovely.

It was very nice to wander through exciting shops and have hot chocolate in a bookshop. I felt as if I was back over in the USA. I think I need to get out more…despite the expenses. Mung and Rach saved us the horror of peak hour traffic, and fed us baked risotto. Small Z bathed in all the Thomas the Tank Engine books and trains that she could get her hands on, and was fed mango. Bliss. We reclaimed all the things we had left behind at the holiday house and Rach lent me Divisadero. We found a small rocking horse with optional wheels in the Easey Street hard rubbish, and brought him home with us…

thebestcamera app. Love it.

A shoe in

Monday night. Sad and blue. I sat at my laptop and pondered over amazon.com for the millionth time. When I did a little bit of shopping before Small Brother came (so he could bring the loot, mulelike, through the sky to our door) my finger slipped and I found myself browsing the boots on sale. For of course, it’s heading into Summer in the US and all the Winter stuff is being marked down.

Boots. The last time I bought a pair of Brand. New. Boots. was in around 1999. Dr Marten black suede boots, on sale at a probably now defunct surf shop in Williamstown and a pair of cherry ones a year or so later on sale in Prahran on my birthday. My aunt bought me a pair of chunky black syntheticky kind of boots when I was in Boston in 2001, which I love… I have alternated between the two black pairs ever since, whilst the cherry pair get used for gardening and renovating.

My black suede DM’s have done serious miles. They have clocked up, I estimate, at least four years of full time wear in the ten or so years I’ve had them. Many gigs, several states, a couple of countries. And they look practically unscathed. This probably contributes to the lack of new boots in my life – if they had disintegrated, I would have felt compelled to replace them.

Anyway, in my slump on Monday night I considered all of the above. I also took into consideration my pregnant condition, my impending end of Winter/start of Spring baby and my dodgy back and leg. I do prefer a bit of a heel, but decided I could forgo that if I found boots that were both flat and cool. I began prowling around the Camper section, but none of the shapes of the toes appealed. I ended up drooling over El Naturalista.

On sale. Obviously. The Australian dollar is good, but it’s not that good. And it’s not like I had the cash, it was more a case of flexing my recently rediscovered credit card and hoping for a birthday cash injection to cover it in a few weeks time. Or so I hypothesise. Anyway, after dithering for ages, and hoping I’d got the sizing right, I bought a pair of New BOOTS.

And get this. That was on Monday night. In Melbourne. My boots arrived today. Friday. Lunchtime. Today. Internet, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways… (They arrived along with the two cds I added in at the last second. Volume Two from She and Him, and the self-titled album from Broken Bells – I would follow James Mercer anywhere).

Voila!
El Naturalista Nido Boot

Mmmm. This picture does them far more justice than the ones I tried to take myself this afternoon. And yes. I can hear L thinking “Brown? Brown!?”. Ordinarily I go for black. No question. But when opting for the brown saves me $150, then I’m happy with brown. More than. Of course, the first thing I realised was that I do not own one single pair of socks. Nada, none. I pranced around in them regardless. “Good boots, Mama!” chirped Small Z, on cue.

Now that I’ve been food shopping, and schlepped three pairs of new black socks into the trolley, I have them on my feet as they should be. I can’t raise my left big toe for a wiggle because that weird nerve is still squashed in my hip somewhere, and the whole foot is still kind of numb. But my right foot? It feels like I just put on an old favourite pair of slippers. Yeah baby!!

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