Trendy Shoes

Trendy Shoes.

This is a very pointless blog of no real purpose at all, but I felt that this web-site needed something light-hearted to break up all the serious news stuff.

It is quite simply this: in an attempt to make us all look  presentable, tidy and reasonably human, my boss has  used company funds to buy us all identical uniform. There's nothing particularly revelatory about this - it happens every year. For the most part this is a good thing - free clothes, thanks very much.

But in amongst the suits, socks and shirts there are also two pairs of brand new black shoes. Shoes that, to be quite honest, I wouldn't be seen dead in. These godawful shoes are so uber-cool that I am bewildered.

What, I wonder, is the point of the long pointless, flat bits that stick out three metres in front of your toes? If I'd wanted over-sized clogs, I would have emailed Brian May to find out where he gets his. Like a policeman's helmet, the bulk of the shoe is utterly useless, except perhaps to store one's sandwiches in (as long as they are very flat and thin). I'm sure that's what policemen put in the unused space in their helmets, alongside a spare note-pad, pen, handkerchief, an A to Z of London and a list of shopping to get on their way home.

These shoes would be more than adequate for use as flippers when swimming underwater. They're so loooong. Why? My feet don't
go near to the end, so why waste the extra leather? They're impractical: if
you're wearing those whilst queueing at a bus-stop, the line will stretch
back miles. And that's with just three people.  

  A lift that can usually carry fifteen people will only be able to carry four people wearing such shoes, unless an equal number are taught to stand on their heads, with the floppy bits of their shoes resting on some other soul's bonce.

And as you walk down the street, all you can hear is the flap, flap, flap of the front of your shoe ... until the point you trip over a slab that the council haven't quite laid evenly, and fall over, get rushed to hostipal (as Baldrick would call it) and then consequently find yourself sueing the relevant government body for not supplying spirit levels.

When running in them it is normal procedure for everyone within the area to wet themselves at the ridiculous sight and then, generally, point at you and say "Ha ha!" like that kid in The Simpsons as you go flapping past.

If you find yourself waiting at a busy road in these shoes, you have to stand so far back from the kerb that you can't reach the button unless you approach it side-on. This is something of a  Catch 22 situation: you want to cross the road, but the only safe way to do so is to wait for the green light. The trouble is that to get the green light you have to  first press the button; and you can't get close enough, so there you stay ... stuck.  

Should you find yourself, by some miracle,  close enough to press the button face-on, you will surely discover that you are unable to move either hither or thither, because cars are running over the flappy bits of your shoes that protrude half-way into the road.

It just  seems extremely silly to wear a pair of over-sized plodders, with the front part of your shoe  in a completely different postcode area to the back. Call me old-fashioned, but it only seems sensible.

I am told that  these shoes are very trendy. That may well be the case, but it doesn't change the fact that you feel  like a penguin when wearing them.

  Give me back my Doc Martens, please.