One of my Birkenstocks has died. After limping around sadly for a while, it’s now decomposing somewhere behind the sofa. Instagram followers will be relieved to know that they won’t be seeing another ‘view from the top’ post of my black leather two-strap Arizonas, anytime soon. In a way this is good news, I’ve been concerned about the Birki, ever since someone left the ‘Chiantishire’ comment on one of my posts. It’s like the David Cameron in Converse scenario, all over again… I also have a couple of projects on the go this week, where I’ll need to hide my skanky end-of-summer feet away and look smart. Bring on the pointed flat.
I’ve rediscovered a 10-year-old burgundy leather pair from LK Bennett that might just about pass muster. If not, there’s always J.Crew’s Gemma. The lovely rhubarb red colour (top) is so popular it has a waiting list, but it is currently available in chartreuse and all-important leopard print:
The best thing about pointed flats is that they go with everything: trousers (wide legged and cropped), jeans (boyfriend and skinny), culottes, dresses, skirts, you name it… Of course, I’ll be Instagramming a picture of a pair shortly but in the meantime, here’s Costanza Pascolato:
Oh and the Birkenstock died because I took a chunk out of the sole tripping over a paving stone. To me, this is one of two things that have signalled the end of summer. The other was surreptitiously throwing our knackered old suitcase into a skip down the road, only to find that the skip had a lid on. The suitcase landed on top with a bounce, we promptly left the scene but the broken suitcase is still sitting there, bringing a whole new meaning to the term left luggage.