After yesterday's clothing binge, today was the day to go through the shoes.
All forty pairs of them.
It feels a bit excessive to own forty pairs of shoes. Ridiculous even.
They were hunted out of every nook and cranny.
The KonMari principles were applied. Did the shoes bring me joy?
Anything with a heel over three inches high makes me walk like a bad transvestite. They were ditched into the Salvos bag.
Anything I can't remember wearing, or can't remember wearing in over five years. The Salvos have them now.
Anything strappy that cant be done up easily. Gone.
And why did I possess seven pairs of thongs (flip flops if you're British / Shower Shoes for the Americans / Jandles if your Kiwi) in various colours. The ones I wear stayed, three others were placed in the Salvos bag. One pair went into the trash.
Now there are 28 pairs lounging in the wardrobe. I'm happy to say that I regularly, and joyfully wear 20 pairs of them. The other eight I either love (my old Doc Martens - good for going on protests in) my sparkly things (dress up thongs - who knew?) and the old blue Naots (the most comfortable and less daggy Birkenstocks - must wear more often), are still having thoughts about (The brown boots and the spangly Birkenstocks) or are needed for special things (The white shoes are needed for Masons)
So that makes it eleven bags of stuff that I don't need that's left the flat.
Can't wait to see what happens when I go through the books...
The one thing this whole process is really bringing home is really - how much stuff do we need? Also, how much of this stuff is wasted? And how much money has been spent on all of this.
It's a sobering lesson.