Tomorrow I have the great delight of attending a hen party for my beloved older sister, Rachel, who is getting married in 43 short days.
For this auspicious occasion (the hen night, not the wedding) I’ve purchased a new outfit, including some very pretty shoes.
Historically I’ve not exactly been a fan of the high heel – due to the fact that my dad is 6’4” and his genes being passed onto me have turned me into a mutant giant. However, in the upcoming wedding my outfit for my debut as a bridesmaid includes heels. And I like them.
The key to all of this also is the fact that although I am going to be a giant in heels, my wee sister will be there too, and she’s got the same tall genes as me. So, trying to get over the aversion to heels – and hoping I don’t fall over and break something tomorrow night.
In other news. My guy did win. Carlisle goes from Labour to Conservative for the first time since 1964.
In summary: practicing walking in heels.