With something of a vendetta against toes that don’t point sharply ahead, a serious distaste for mary-janes, and no real cravings for velvet, no matter how plush, – nobody was more surprised than I at how hard and fast I fell for these almond-toed babies. Like black and navy, or ice-cream and fries, it shouldn’t work but given just the right circumstances they hit the nail right on the head.
Enter, my perfect seasonal shoe.
It feels like the longest time since I’ve had a chance to throw you an update. Looming uni deadlines made it near impossible to Instagram, let alone string a few words together or shoot an outfit. In fact, my ‘ootd’ arsenal consisted of workout clothes, leggings and unflatteringly huge jumpers until the end of last week, when I finally handed in the project that has been taking up so much of my time. So Instagram, and this website, surely benefited my absence.
Tomorrow I’m boarding the coach back to Bristol, where I’m spending a whole week with my family. I’m ridiculously excited to spend some time doing nothing, and I finally ignite my festive spirit. I haven’t got a tree, or any Christmas paraphernalia bar a few glittery candle holders, in the flat so I can’t wait to see the tree at home and feel a bit ‘hygge’. Hygge, like quinoa, is a word I say right out loud but always read it differently in my head (prounounced hoo-gah, in my head high-gh). Also, too excited to see my dogs – always in need of some puppy loving, and it’s the only way to do downtime.