I had to wear socks on Tuesday.
Wearing socks in the summer is unacceptable to me. As soon as it's warm enough to ditch them, my feet are freed for that brief couple of months we call summer, then October hits, I accept my fate and go back to wearing socks once again. So I'm not against socks in the slightest when it's practical, only when it's too warm for them to be worn without feet sweat-age (apologies for that lovely mental image).
Anyway, the reason for the dreaded sock-wearing was down to a completely self-inflicted injury I sustained at the weekend. After our long walk on Saturday, I went another long walk on Sunday. Not intentionally, I might add, but the sun and the heat presented me with a rare opportunity for some enjoyable outdoors time, so when I started walking I just...didn't stop. On both days I was wearing shoes that are generally comfortable, but have a delightful tendency to start rubbing my heels at random times. One pair are trainers, which makes matters even more irritating. So, in return for a few hours exercise, I got bloody feet. I hobbled my way through Monday in my mocassins but by Tuesday, I accepted my fate and put on socks. Bah.
On the bright side, I got to wear this new shirt I found in M&S at the weekend. The only one left was a size 22 but as soon as I saw it I knew I was taking it home. It's pretty unflatteringly gigantic on me but I don't mind - any time I can go to work in something resembling pyjamas is a good as far as I'm concerned. And if I had to wear socks, at least I can hide them somewhat with my favourite jeans and some disco themed Converse. (I also got this checked dress in the sale, which will be modelled at the weekend if the sun reappears!)
shirt - M&S
jeans - Long Tall Sally
shoes - Converse