Warning: if you care neither for sartorialism or romance, this is going to be a very boring read and you will see the title as a pun on ‘stupid’ rather than ‘cupid’.
Back home for the (so-called) summer, sulking about the weather and in search of footwear that could be worn with hiking socks, I spent a happy few minutes of my day sorting through my shoe collection. As well as keeping my toes toasty, my findings came with a bit of a mini epiphany.
Over the years, Boyfriend has given me four pairs of shoes. (Hopefully many more years and many more shoes to come, please and thank you.) The turquoise wedge sandals were a Valentine’s gift, the deep blue wedges were a reward for late-night proof reading, and the red bow sandals were quite possibly the most beautiful birthday present I have ever received. You might be forgiven for failing to notice the humble boots, mouse-brown and weather-worn as they are. The other pairs are all very well for dressing up but those boots have seen me through rain and wind and snow. Boyfriend did not buy them for me as a gift for a special occassion or as recompense for hard work: he simply bought them because he worried about my feet getting cold. I might love those red sandals the most, but the weather-worn boots remind me most of why I love Boyfriend.
(I know, I know: ridiculously soppy, but after my last post I felt I sort of owed it to the boy.)