Crazy Cat Shoes

I went to Malaysia with a friend I’ve known for forty years. It was meant to be for our fortieth birthday celebration, but as I was still breast feeding, and had no income to speak of, she kindly let us delay our trip. It took me three years to save up the money to go, but eventually we went, no longer to celebrate our forty years on the planet, but forty years of friendship.
We had a wonderful time, relaxing, reading, massages galore and fabulous cocktails for lunch and dinner. It was weird to be away from our husbands and kids, but nice to be unencumbered for a change.(Imagine just being able to jump in a taxi and do your seat belt up? No Maxi taxi with carseat fiasco, no clicking everyone in). It was also lovely to have some time together, as we live in different cities, and I am remarkably the world’s worst telephoner: I call no one. I’ve lost the art of phone conversation.  I don’t really enjoy the faceless voice at the end of the line, though apparently I’m fine with faceless emails.
We shopped, with marginal success, she acquiring luggage limits of new footwear, me happy with just one pair of fancy red ankle boots, but more Angry Birds and Gangnam Style shirts than you can imagine.
We headed off to the airport together for our hour apart flights home. While she was in the chemist line, I popped next door to a shoe shop. In a moment, I saw them and had to have them. Miraculously, they were in my evidently elusive size. Within a minute they were in my bag!

The Crazy Cat shoes are super comfy, and literally put a spring in my step! I love just looking at them, because they are quirky enough to make me smile. They also have the whole holiday experience wrapped up in them – they remind me of my friend, my week off from reality, and the lovely laid back island of Langkawi.
Another friend told me I should enjoy them while I can, because there soon comes an age when you can’t wear those sort of shoes (I suspect I am that age already but inner city living means anything goes and there’s always someone weirder than you walking by).
I rang my friend for her birthday, slackly but predictably two days late. She mentioned she thought we should look at Vietnam for our next beach holiday, sans enfants. Guess I better start saving…Do you think they’ll have animal footwear in Hanoi?

Do you have happiness wrapped up in an item of clothing?

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