Stalkbook, fuggboots and one mighty fall from grace

How has this come to be? A vigilante card-carrying, eyebrow-raising, scorn-inducing member of the sartorial squad for Crimes Against Humanity... and I sit here wearing ugg-boots. When I say it's a dark, dark day I mean it more than literally (yes the clocks change tomorrow and sunset is scheduled for 4.46pm...)

I loathe ugg boots - their blatant hat-tip to skankiness and lazy up yours to the unspoken rule of "tough shit if they give you blisters/squish your toes/make the balls of your feet throb after only 15 minutes, wear them, they MATCH YOUR OUTFIT and reveal a modicum of effort to FINISH DRESSING". Yes I hate ugg boots. It turns out though I also hate cold tiles, cold English mornings, cold English evenings and socks with holes in them.


I don't feel like myself... Facebook I can almost, albeit somewhat lumpily, sweep under the rug - drunken promises etc etc - but ugg boots? Even as strictly indoor wear? I feel a part of me has been irrevocably changed forever. And for the dirtier not for the better. Already I miss the view from the high heels of sartorial superiority.