You’re either born with good feet or you’re not. I am, rather disgracefully, not. Now despite running the risk of attracting a few unsavoury characters with some niche fetishes, I feel the need to address some toe-tally, signifeet-cant (doesn’t work, I know. Lets move on) details about my own feet. God bless ‘em and all, but my toes have been through hell and back. Imitating the ‘after’ photo of a serious drug addiction, my toes are all bent outta’ shape and finding it difficult to live a normal life. You see, they’re knobbly with nails looking for a fight and a fairly liberal sprinkling of gross. For fellow sufferers, there are generally two ways to deal with such an ailment. Distraction or treatment.
Treatment involves pedicures, psychotherapy and a strong course of antibiotics. Personally, I like a challenge. Drawing the eyes away from the issue is my genius solution and one entirely effective distraction are these boots. Big boots, big laces and BIG diversion. You big bloody ripper.
Wearing: Asos slip dress, H&M ribbed tee, Alex Perry X Tony Bianco boots
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