Slippers

I think you can tell a lot about a person by the slippers they choose (or not) to wear.

I used to wear ridiculous slippers when I was younger. And by younger I mean, like, 19. Anything before then and I wouldn't have been seen dead with anything furry on my feet (unless the dog had fallen asleep on me - he was so heavy my legs went numb). Maybe this was because every year, without fail, we (the collective 'we' of Mum, Dad and I but always chosen by Mum) would give my Nanna slippers at Christmas. And they were always hideous. Nanna, of course, loved them, or gave a performance worthy of an academy award if she didn't. This somewhat tainted my view on what is an otherwise fabulous institution.

I've had all manner of indoor shoe wear from big, bright and fluffy (gayer than Elton John) to Little Miss Sunshine (of course given ironically) to something resembling a dogs face (don't ask and no, it didn't keep the dog off my feet).

These days, given the fact that I am approaching thirty and now have wooden floorboards I have opted for something more grown up and subdued. Not only are my latest slippers from M&S but they also have "secret support".

Bet you're jealous.