Painted Shoes.

For health reasons which are far too boring to go into, I am currently selling twenty-one pairs of shoes. I am saving up to buy a pair of custom-fitted orthotic insoles, which basically restricts me to flat, boring, sensible shoes for evermore.

Of course, I am now seeing nothing but fabulous shoes, everywhere I turn! This month's Elle magazine arrived with a "shoes & handbags" supplement. The newest issue of Simply Knitting (where I thought I would be safe!) has a picture of some amazingly-decorated mosaic shoes. And now Hannah has been painting on her shoes.

Hannah also links to more painted shoes and clogs:

Åsa Westlund has a range of beautifully painted high-heeled Swedish clogs. Even if you're not keen on the style, there's no denying that the artwork is absolutely beautiful.

I used to have a little collection of swedish clogs (the flat kind), until an attack of mould in the hideous basement where I was living infiltrated the wooden soles, and rendered them all wet and irreparable. Now, of course, I wish I hadn't looked for pictures of clogs. I miss my patent purple pair (which all my friends kindly referred to as "those sawn-off wellies"), and I didn't know they were now available printed with dinosaurs, cartoons and skulls!

I'm not allowed to wear clogs any more, so clearly I need to be looking at painted shoes instead. Etsy has some beautiful work, from two sellers in particular.

Hippy of Doom has the most beautiful ballet pumps painted with a Hokusai wave design. She also has an adorable pair featuring the tree spirits from Princess Mononoke.

Miss Bunny's hand-painted shoes often have an Alice in Wonderland theme. My absolute favourites were these "Eat Me, Drink Me" shoes, which some lucky buyer must now be wearing with great joy.

Friends keep telling me that I should paint my own shoes, to make my disappointing orthopaedic future a little less dull. (Somebody in the USA has had this idea already!) I have painted Doc Martens, baseball boots and leather jackets in the past, but taking a paintbrush to a pair of extremely expensive shoes seems a bit scary. Mind you, it can't be more intimidating than reproducing an album cover or a photograph on the back of someone else's expensive leather jacket.

Maybe I should grab an old pair of shoes and a paintbrush, and give it a go.