Writing inspired by the following SWC prompts:

These Old Slippers
Tell the story of a favourite pair of old, comfortable slippers.

These Old Slippers

by Jasmine Fassl

She decided to take the lift. Normally, Nina would walk, never missing an opportunity to be ‘her best self’, ‘living her best life’ and knowing that ‘every little bit can make a difference’. She was hoping, rather than knowing, that 3 flights of stairs would fulfil these Instagram promises.

But today Nina could not bear taking even one step more than absolutely necessary before taking off her bloody high heels. She had bought them in the sale on the weekend before, after reading that ‘every woman should own a pair of killer heels’, and that ‘a high heel made the curve of your calve so much more desirable’. Black patent leather with a pointy tip and a stiletto heel, a silver buckle on each side – that’s what she got.

On the way to work she’d tried to convince herself that ‘new shoes are meant to hurt’, at least until they adapted to your feet. In this case, she supposed, the shoes thought that her feet should do the adapting rather than the other way round. They continued to hurt through lunch and she quietly slipped them off under her desk in the afternoon, even foregoing a cup of tea and a biscuit at 4 o’clock. She just could not be bear putting them on again.

However, eventually Nina had to go home. On the tube, she stoically ignored the pointed looks of other passengers to give up her seat – she couldn’t ‘pay it forward’ today. Someone else needed to be ‘kind to strangers’ on this journey.

The lift arrived at her floor and Nina stumbled the last few steps to her door. She opened it with a sigh and stepped into the flat whilst stepping out of her shoes. The cool wooden floor felt great on her swollen feet.

She lined the shoes up neatly in her shoe rack, because ‘a tidy house means a tidy mind’, and then opened the hallway closet, looking for the mustard yellow cardboard storage box. She opened it, and took out her old slippers. They were a dirty pink, stained by splashes of tomato sauce and curry powder, frayed at the edges and worn down by the heel. She slid into them with a tingle of relief, the feeling travelling up her whole body.

Her slippers might not be fashionable and they certainly did not fit into her highly Instagrammable flat, but on some days she allowed herself – no, she physically ached for – a thing from ‘before’. One of her much loved objects or unhealthy treats she now hid away in pretty boxes or in the back of cupboards. Like the chipped, tea-stained mug with Kermit the Frog on it, which she got for her 8th birthday. Or the now bleached and lint-covered blue hot water bottle cover with rabbit ears at the top.

Some evenings she could not get to sleep without one of her much read and dog-eared Jilly Cooper novels. They certainly could not be kept in her immaculately alphabetical bookshelves, full of award-winning or much TikTok-hyped novels, but they were nestled in her bedside cabinet, hidden behind a door with a stark geometric pattern on it.

She told herself that all this was okay. Nobody was proud of their weaknesses. Still, Nina was trying to ‘be kind to herself’. Like her favourite influencers always preached in their reels, filmed in pristine apartments or open-plan houses, in front of rainbow-colour-coordinated bookshelves or in impeccably marble-topped kitchens, batch-cooking healthy food for their 5 children under the age of 10, dressed in ironed slacks while wearing the a pair of black killer heels.

Nina dug a frozen Pepperoni pizza out from the bottom of her freezer and shoved it in the oven. She found a Snickers bar behind the hummus crisps and chia seeds in the cupboard and flopped down on sofa, remote control ready in her hand.

Tomorrow was always another day to be perfect.