Dear Børn,

Long time wearer, first time writer…

I usually love your shoes and own many pairs, but I must complain about a design flaw in a pair I thought I would love.

The first time ever I saw your little brown ballet flats, the angels sang. Remember?

But a couple of hours into their first outing, I realized that these shoes are actually the work of the DEVIL HIMSELF.

Let’s take a closer look, shall we?



Note, if you will, the back of the shoe, which curves up into a devious Achilles-shredding point. No flesh, no Band-Aid can hold up under this crippling, hard-edged curve. What were you thinking, Børn?

I have tried wearing these cute cruel shoes a couple of times since that first attempt, heavily fortifying my heels with Band-Aids. But I invariably ended up limping and finishing my day out walking from car to door in my bare or stocking feet, so anxious was I to free myself from the agony.

And so, the shoes must go.

They are barely worn, Børn, but should I donate them to charity, as I do my other not-too-worn clothes? Or is that just passing the cruel buck?

You have disappointed me, Børn. Deeply. In penance, I think you should walk a mile in my shoes. These shoes.

Yours truly,

Sophie

Labels: fashion, shoes, shopping