My dad really, really, really, really, really hates:
Julie Andrews: No-one in my family knows why this is. My sister and I have never seen even the smallest part of the Sound of Music.
Suede Shoes: Once upon a time, my husband and I accompanied my parents to a very posh Civic Trusts Awards Dinner aboard a boat on Loch Lomond. Prince Edward was the guest of honour. My husband wore a beautiful charcoal grey wool suit and a pair of black suede brogues. On seeing him, my dad effected his best peering-over-the-glasses look and asked coldly:
What are you wearing on your feet?
Meat: In his younger years, Dad worked for a butcher. Whenever my mum made a Sunday roast, he would hint darkly about the terrible things he had seen during this time. Eventually, he gave up eating any kind of living critter other than fish and the occasional prawn.
Harry Potter: For some strange reason, J K Rowling really pisses my dad off. He believes that Harry Potter is the bastard love child of a Mills & Boon writer and Enid Blyton.
Brown Shoes: We have shopped a lot together, my father and I. His views on brown shoes being worn with grey suits or full stop are legendary throughout the West of Scotland. It is not unknown for him to tell complete strangers off for their unfortunate footwear choices.
Other than meat eating, these are quite odd things to develop a morbid dislike of. With this genetic inheritance, is it any surprise that I have similar prejudices about shoes?
My own personal aversion is to white shoes. There is nothing that gives me the shoe eeks faster than seeing white shoes. White does not bother me in clothing. Two tone black and white shoes do not bother me, I am really quite partial to correspondent shoes. I just really, really, really, really hate white shoes.
Being a rational person I am the first to realise how ridiculous my aversion is. I even once in an unguarded moment bought a pair of white sandals from RMK on the way to an unexpected work function. Such was the immediate depth of my revulsion though that I could not look at my own feet all evening.
Who knows why I feel like this? In Scotland the white stiletto sandal worn with bare, corned beef legs is standard Going on Holiday attire. It is not a good look and possibly the reason why I cannot abide white shoes now.
Would it be possible, do you think, for shoe companies to phase out the use of white for people like me? If so, I would beg them to replace white with silver (or another metallic shade like platinum or pewter) forthwith.
Earlier this week I had to buy a pair of white shoes – running shoes very seldom come in any other colour. I have Santa weight to shift and did not want to put this off solely to avoid buying white trainers and genuine running shoes in silver are hard to come by. The only practical solution is to:
(a) crank up the volume on my iPod;
(b) avoid looking down at the pavement; and
(c) run through enough Aussie dust to turn down the visual white noise as soon as possible.
POST SCRIPT: Since he is not one to use a new fangled comments box on a blog either here are my Dad’s responses to the above blog post:
On wearing white with Black: Simply appalling wearing black with white. There is a great pretty little gal in my bank with great legs but white shoes…Argh!
On the Sound of Music: With regard to the sound of music it surely must be the worst thing ever put to song and they are all bad. I do not know if I ever proscribed it relative to my weans but it should be expunged from the earth period. Edelweiss and other puke making twaddle. I am going to throw up, bye bye.
On brown shoes: My favourite hate is brown shoes. A touch of diarrohea about brown. When such abominations are used with a dark suit may God forgive them for they know not what they do. On the other hand when one wears elegant tan shoes with a white or near creamy white suit then the world is at peace. Too many bloody philistines at large I fear.