30 August - Too ageing, Too Fast & so Too Furious

Shit shit shit it’s happening. I’’m getting old (again). This time it’s official. A week ago I saw on the feet ofa 50 something Spanish tourist a pair of summer version MBT’s, you know those horrendously ugly, chunky trainers that are supposed to improve your posture and core strength because they make your heels roll back? The summer version was a bulky sort of white Birkenstock sandal. I think I read about them a few years back and Cherie Blair was seen with some (she needs all the help she can get frankly). Then yesterday I spied the regular version under the trousers of a City woman. It was her suit I was admiring at first, a very subtle feminine Prince of Wales check which was one of my father’s best suits so there’s my Freudian moment for all to enjoy. I thought, well if worn under wide trousers those ugly shoes are not that noticeable? (they are Lisa, they are said my other voice). Maybe I should invest in them carried on sensible voice being that 3 sessions with the marvellous osteopath Guy Gold (works out of Triyoga if you need him) have cost me £120 anyway (shoes are £135) and I went because of some glitch with my right knee and feet anyway. What if the MBT’s turn out to be magic for the knee and thereafter I’m tempted to ignore the spindly high heels? This is how ‘old’ starts surely, with comfortable coming B4 fashionable? Though my mother has not yet succumbed to elasticated waists and I hope she never does? I compromise by deciding to resist for another couple of years at least.