I’ve been looking at all the pictures coming in of New York in the snow..
Except something is nagging in the back of my mind, a niggling, whispering, wicked little voice saying this just isn’t right…. isn’t normal, isn’t human…
I’m loving the style…but tell me, do you hand your skirt over at the cloakroom? And is that before or after you’ve floated there because if you can walk in those heels lady, I’m a pink leprechaun with purple spots, even without the snow…
Ladies, tres tres chic…but please,Why isn’t your pristine fur covered in clinging wet slush? Your tights ripped – your knees gashed? Your bottoms blue?
I love it!…but I have to ask – don’t your toes get cold?
You left in a hurry…but it’s not worth getting hyperthermia for…just put them on.
And socks, add socks..
You too – I’ll actually be able to see your feet turning blue. You can wear gloves? So why not something decent for your poor feet?
These could either be a rare pair of socks. Or an extreme form of fashionista gangrene.
Bet these looked good in the shop. A nice, warm shop. A dry shop. With thick piled carpet to stride on without a care in the world…
My ultimate wish:
1. To be a fly on a wall to see if these people can actually move. Safely. In a dignified manner. More than 2 feet.
2. If they can
shuffle walk – To be magically enhanced with whatever biological gene/super power they have that I am certainly lacking. Snow or no snow.
Laters, Kate x