Wednesday, 17 September 2014


adidas, new balance minimus, adidas pure, asics, whorrified, marie sutherland, bermuda,
In my ongoing quest to maim every single body part that gravity hasn't already taken care of, I have purchased a new pair of workout shoes. 

Which wouldn't ordinarily be news but it did give me an excellent excuse to preen in front of a mirror for an entire afternoon. And also, as you may recall, the last pair I bought damn near killed me. (I don't know about you, but I find that working out is second only to travel to exotic locales in terms of its ability to land me in a wheelchair.)

Like my taste in men, my taste in shoes tends strongly toward the most painfully inappropriate ones available. My mother loves to remind me of the time I bought a pair of ultra-sexy gladiator sandals made of rope and murder. They bit into my skin like piranhas, they ripped my flesh open and yet, and yet ... I continued to wear them until I went septic and wound up in the emergency ward. *sigh* God, they were hot!

Anyway, my last pair of trainers, New Balance Minimus, bewitched me with their feather-lightness, their knockout colours, their aura of athletic chic. They looked great, they felt great, they cost a fortune and they were the worst shoes someone who loves high-impact aerobics could possibly choose. 

After limping through an entire month of a crippling, steadily worsening knee injury, I finally clued in: it was the shoes. I retired them from active duty and went hunting for a more suitable pair. Which would be pretty much anything.

I won't bore you with the details of the agonizing weeks of shoe-searching that followed, other than to tell you that the staff at Foot Locker hide behind the counter when they see me coming now ("Tell her I have Ebola!") and to say that the end result was a pair of black and silver Adidas Adipure. Which I can't recommmend highly enough, as they fit the trifecta of my exacting criteria: ultra-light, super-cute, totally cushiony and above all: cheap. And yes, I do realize that a trifecta is three things, but I think my knee and I have earned a little slack here, you frickin fact-Nazis, you. I've worn them to the gym four days a week for two weeks straight and I am still ambulatory and pretty much pain-free, so guess what? The universe is just going to have to find some other way to maim me.

EDITOR'S NOTE: Whoaaa, mistress! Is that wise? You've got a trip to St. Lucia coming up ...