Sacrificing my feet to the shoe gods (Updated)

Oh summer, I love thee, but my feet aren’t quite ready for you yet.

This is what’s left of my feet after a week of spring weather; one new pair of shoes; breaking in last year’s sandals all over again and the introduction of tinted moisturiser to lessen the glare of my pasty pins in the sun.

Ouch. The pain – both physical and emotional (embarrassment).

Update: 24 hours after posting this, my feet are in a far sorrier state. The shoes in the above photo are my ‘office’ shoes – only to be worn outside during lunchtime expeditions. Tonight I accidentally walked for over 2 hours in them (I couldn’t be bothered to change into my trainers), walking all the way to London Bridge from the office. I walked my feet raw, quite literally.¬†Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

Feet, feet & more feet

Whilst blog-surfing the other day, I came across Gypsy Feet, a blog of photos of feet. Sounds random, but it’s lovely and you can send in your own feet related photos.
My friend Juliet would hate it. She has an innate hatred of the naked foot, so much so that her children are banned from wandering around barefoot at home & she hates flip-flops and other shoes that reveal too much flesh. But the blog’s not just naked feet, it’s lots of pretty shoes too.
It made me feel less weird about my habit of taking photos of my own feet and those of friends. I’m not sure how this started, but I have a lot, including:

Perhaps where it all began – feet in prayer circles.
(We took photos of the faces too.)

An entire series of people’s feet at last year’s Greenbelt.
(There was a competition on facebook to tag them correctly – these are Ruth’s in a sea of mud in the beer tent.)

Pretty socks & slippers at our Girls’ Weekend Away last year.

Standing perilously on the clear glass up the Auckland Sky Tower.

Either side of the crack in Tate Modern this time last year.

And snowy feet, two weeks ago.