My collection of stilettos is now resigned to special nights out (involving a car) or special nights in (involving my man).
When I arrived in Florence in January 2013, in rained solidly for two months. This was worsened by the fact that I am a walker and footpaths in Florence are one big, often deep, puddle. My shoes were ruined and the following year I was so obsessed with finding a pair of waterproof shoes (not Wellingtons, tempting as that was), I bought a pair of Geox ankle boots.
Before Florence, I ruined many a stiletto when I lived in Rome and learned my lesson after stopping umpteen times to wrench a (shredded) spike heel out of the jaws of cobblestones.
Though not as bad, this winter reminds me of 2013. The truth is I’ve become spoilt. Now, with a couple of cloudy weeks in Florence, I revert to my Irish roots and talk about the weather constantly.
It’s a dirty one today.
Isn’t it very dark out?
What’s the weather forecast? But sure they are never right anyway.
Raw day today.
That wind would skin you.
Sounds like I’m due a special night in.
© M. E. Walsh