To me, a beautiful pair of shoes is like poetry or a piece of art that must be acquired once my heart is set on it. I have stayed awake at night more than once, thinking about, amongst other things, maid related issues, teenage behaviour, the Bhakts, Donald Trump, melting glaciers, and that achingly beautiful pair of stilettos that I failed to buy.
Now, as most of you will agree with me, most good-looking shoes come with high heels. I don’t feel the need to appear any taller than I already am but walking away from a beautifully crafted pair of shoes only on account of the height of its heels to me is no different from praising a woman’s beauty but complaining that her nose is too sharp. The latter is something that my mother and my Punjabi aunts do rather well, incidentally. “Very pretty girl but her nose is verrry sharp, like a hawks, makes her look very mean” I have heard them say.