Killer heels

I'm not sure whether to blame it on motherhood to an active toddler or plain old middle age creeping up (GAH), but I have become a firmly entrenched wearer of flats. No more killer heels for me - I barely even pretend to make the effort these days even on 'business suit' days at work. I'm not sure if I should be ashamed of this or proud that my 30s are proving to be the decade of the ballet flat.

I'm not even sure when this descent began. I think it can be attributed to a horribly undignified toppling over in the corridors of power when I was about 6 months pregnant. One of those moments I'd genuinely prefer to forget but suspect I will remember forever. I like to pretend noone saw.

Just like noone saw me when I fell over dashing through the gravel carpark at a great friend's wedding trying to get to the ceremony before her. I blame the shoes - the gorgeous nude patent pumps with an 11cm heel that look so gosh darn pretty in the cupboard. Less so waving in the air while I try to pick myself up off the ground ...

These shoes are now Puddleduck's favourite dress up shoes. She totters around with the skill and dexterity I maintain I used to have. I mean I genuinely remember running across regional airport tarmacs in 5 inch heels in absolutely no danger of landing on my backside. Not these days. Sigh.

No, these days I prefer the sweet and humble ballet flat. Perhaps it's a throw-back to my ballet days, but I really have developed quite a thing for them. I mean they really do go with almost everything and a good pair will make you feel like you're walking on air - yellow Bloch flats I am looking at you.

In some ways it's like cheating. I get all the comfort and practicalit yof a pair of Kumfs or Diana Ferrari Supersofts without the daggy Grandma factor. Yes Mum, Supersofts are daggy. But you can get away with them because you're a Grandma :)

I currently have my eyes on these. With free shipping for international orders over 75 pounds I really should get a few pairs ...