I've done a quick search of this blog, and somehow it seems that we have been blogging here on The Heroine Addicts for several months now, and incredibly, we seem to have neglected to talk about SHOES.
Good shoes are, for some reason, vital to every romantic writer's psyche. Wheneverwe get together, we seem to spend a great deal of time staring at each other's feet and squealing in delight. I can personally vouch for the excellence of the shoes of every Heroine Addict, though special mention perhaps goes to Christina Courtenay who is never seen without an exquisite pair on her perfect feet. In my mind, at least, she toddles down to the shop in four-inch stilettos whenever she needs a pint of milk etc. (Don't disappoint me here, Christina.) I also treasure a wondrous moment when our own Liz Fenwick GAVE ME, through the goodness of her heart, a pair of black patent court shoes with the name "Louboutin" inside them.
I'm not sure what this says about us; perhaps it's just that we like to express our femininity in an overt way. Perhaps it's because we spend so much time sitting on our butts, writing, that we feel that when we get out in public and use our neglected feet we need to put on Something Special.
I wrote about the power of shoes in Nina Jones and the Temple of Gloom:
I’m a great believer in the power of high heeled shoes. They’re beautiful, they’re stylish, they can rescue a so-so outfit, and they make you appear to have legs up to your armpits, especially if you have passably long legs anyway. Also—and this may be obvious but it’s really vital—the taller you are, the more people will assume that you know what you’re doing... Most importantly, they’re uncomfortable. When you wear heels for every minute of your professional and social life you’re instantly proclaiming yourself as a person who is able to withstand blisters, pinching, and calf ache, because looking good is more important than pain. Besides, blisters can provide a handy distraction from an aching heart.