They got scuffed, massively. Not only by the train but by the opposite foot. I blame my Bambi-like ankles for this.
I got asked if I was a golfer. I’m not but can demonstrate a good swing technique thanks to years of listening to my dad and lil brother, both keen golfers.
Someone asked if my feet got sweaty as they noticed I wasn’t wearing socks. They didn’t but I informed them that they probably did smell.
The made me do a double take every time I looked in the full-length mirror in the ladies loo at work as they’re so bright.
This made me wonder whether I’d be able to see my face in them.
I skidded my way through Victoria station as they have zero grip on the soles.
So there you have it. The inane thoughts and comments around my beautiful new golf shoes, I mean brogues.
Find out what happened The Day I Wore Sparkly Shoes to Work.