Back in the day, the start of a new year meant that it was time for Mum to brave the shops with three kids to buy shoes. We were plonked on the steps to have our feet measured, always going a size larger because back then we grew taller (not wider, thanks ageing) overnight. One pair of school shoes and one pair of party shoes - can you guess which ones I was most excited about? Of course once I saw that there were options; black leather with a bow, red patent sling-backs and pink glitter flats, how the hell was I supposed to choose just one pair? Cue my immediate tantrum when I couldn't have the five pairs I was demanding (who knew redheads had tempers ey?) Fast-forward a few decades and I've got my tantrums under control with a mixture of sarcasm and red wine but my love of shoes hasn't dissipated at all. Sure, these particular ones ripped substantial blisters in my feet in the hour I wore them to dinner but just look at the way they glitter ... and that bow! I've never been a practical girl, just one that follows her instincts far too impulsively but never regrets a decision I made.