I am not a hippy. I’m not a crusty. I’m not a gypsy. I work for a living. I pay my taxes and I am a responsible citizen. I believe in recycling. I do not litter. But I want a simple life and so with my husband I’m moving into a van. Maybe we will hate it. Or maybe this is the beginning of a new life.

In search of another life

"They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn..."

Jack Kerouac

Monday, 28 June 2010

The Heel

Since attending the first wedding of the summer I have been thinking about high heels. I haven’t worn heels since 2000 and even then I only wore them for a few hours before taking them off and walking home barefoot. So it seems strange that I would choose now when I’m living in a van to reconsider the heel. But after seeing almost every other female at the wedding strutting their stuff with their elegant pins I am thinking that this may be the time.

I like crushing stereotypes. Why should I look scruffy just because I live in a van? I have spent the past thirty years looking scruffy (with a brief interlude in my teens where I actually ironed my hair and wore makeup), so this seems like the perfect time to make an effort with my looks. I have even started brushing my hair on a daily basis. Tomorrow I might go shoe shopping.

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