If all school teachers were like Naomi aka @Nomie_yardarm there would be happier children around. Her enthusiasm for life is infectitious, she is a lively conversationalist and her blog Under the Yardarm is an effervescent delight. You have to love a woman who posts so many Eighties snapshots of herself (this is nostalgia week for me). I should preface this post by saying I was really fed up to the back teeth with the gladiator sandal phenomena until I saw these. When you are wearing sandals like these your foot is almost completely bare which can be a bit confronting. The trick is to add metal and jewel coloured nail polish as she has done. Metal on bare skin is extremely alluring as you can see.
I have flirted with the idea of gladiator sandals for some time. Last year I bought a pair of gladiator-ish heels that I just love. They have seen me through some wonderful nights out, have witnessed some daring(ly bad) dance moves, and allowed me to actually see the lovely Katy Steele, rather than just the back of peoples heads. When I wear them I am always reminded of certain friends and places.
All my shoes do that. Each pair have memories attached. I could tell you where and when I bought them, and where each pair have carried me. If shoes could speak, tales could be told!
Recently I purchased a pair of gladiator flats on line. I don’t usually do that with shoes, I like to hold them, and feel the sweet slip of a foot as I try them on. (Breath held, foot slips in, strut to mirror, head in shoe haze of possibilities.) But I had seen these in the flesh, on my dear friends feet to be exact. On a recent trip to Tasmania I spied these beauties on my Best Pam’s feet. It was love at first sight.
On returning home I found the site she had bought them from and promptly ordered a pair for my self. I then had to endure one week and three days of waiting. It was a long wait. Very long.
When they finally did arrive I wondered if they would suit me – would they be that little bit too much? Would I look ridiculous and stumpy? While on Best Pam they looked stunning, she is a lot taller than me (well, even twelve year olds are taller than me) and has a style and grace people covet. But as I slid them on I knew they would work. They instantly made me smile. I happily tweeted their arrival.
I have worn them two days running and they have been kind to my feet, as well as entertaining twenty three kindergarten children at mat time and in the library.
But while most shoes come waiting for memories to be made, these ones came with one already whispered into their soft leather and shiny bling, wrapped and waiting to greet me in their rustling tissue paper and white shoe box. A memory of a sunny Hobart day and a long, lean friend, so unaware of her own beauty, stepping from a car and walking towards me. Gladiator? Perhaps… or a warrior princess… the friend who has been with me since we thought plastic ice cube sandals with glitter infused nylon ballet style laces were the hottest thing ever.
So when I look down at my bling encrusted sandals, I think of my Best Pam, and that in itself is reason enough for me to love these shoes. I will wear them often and as they carry me on my way, I will carry Best Pam in my heart.