Slipping On a Pair of Holidays

I have this dress which makes me happy. It’s not my prettiest dress, or the most expensive. When I wear it though, it is like slipping on summer; like the first day of holidays. That feeling is priceless.

Tired of wearing pants all week, I pulled it off the hanger to wear on Friday. It meant I had to wear shoes with some sort of elevation to them, but they had to be comfortable to walk in; thongs certainly wouldn’t do. I found a pair of leather wedges in a soft red and slipped them on. On my way to school, I pulled out a favourite red and white striped shawl from my tote and wrapped it round to ward off the chill.

Ohhh! Suddenly I realised I was wearing an outfit entirely composed of items I had bought on holiday a couple of years earlier. I’ve already recounted the stories of the Zara dress and the pashmina. Here is the tale of the shoes.

When I wear [the dress], it is like slipping on summer; like the first day of holidays…

I’d gone out one afternoon already dressed for evening festivities (a Christmas do on a yacht), intending to while away two or three hours shopping in one of Dubai’s enormous malls. Whilst out, the shank on one of my cream leather mules snapped in half, which meant suddenly this casual shopping trip assumed a sense of urgency, as I had to find a suitable pair of shoes to replace them.

Frantically I shuffled from shop to shop in the broken shoes, trying to find a pair of footwear that I a) liked, b) were leather and c) were not too expensive. It was more difficult than you would imagine. Eventually I ran these wedges to earth in a Bata boutique. I didn’t love them, but they would pass muster.

I distinctly recall the pleasure with which I threw the broken shoe in a bin in the middle of the mall.

On the yacht, my escort accurately gauged my true feelings. He nevertheless whole-heartedly approved of the shoes. They are a bit too preppy for me, with their blanket-stitched edges, but nowadays I wear them occasionally, and they make me smile fondly.