Look what I made! My very own hand-knitted ruby slippers - perfect for keeping toes toasty warm on these chilly winter afternoons.

As an early Christmas gift to readers of a crafty bent, I thought I'd share the pattern I used to make these. It's so easy and quick, and ideal if you're a beginner when it comes to knitting. You can make it with any DK weight wool you have to hand, although I have to admit that I quite like the idea of making some with sparkly red yarn for the full-on Wizard of Oz look.

The basic pattern for the slippers is based on paperandglue's ridiculously easy mary jane slippers, which you can also find on ravelry here. Here goes:

Follow the Yellow Brick Road Ruby Slippers

You will need:

Any red DK yarn.
4.5mm needles.

To make the slippers:

Cast on 30 stitches.
Knit for 18cm in garter stitch. Bear in mind that you may need to increase or decrease the length here depending on the size of your foot - I wear UK size 4/5 shoes.
K2tog for two rows, keeping in pattern.
Cut off the yarn, leaving a long tail which you can then thread through the remaining stitches like a drawstring.
Using the tail of yarn, sew the two edges together for about 7cm to make the toe of your slipper.
Sew up the vertical seam at the back to make the heel of the slipper.

To make the bows:

For the main bow:
Cast on 7 stitches.
Knit for 8cm in garter stitch.
BO in pattern.

For the loop:
Cast on 3 stitches.
Knit 4cm in garter stitch.
BO in pattern.
(alternatively if you prefer, you could make a 4cm piece of icord instead)

To complete the bow, wrap the loop piece around the centre of the main bow, and stitch it together on the back side. You can then stitch the finished bow to the toe of your slipper.

To finish:

Tap heels together three times...

I have to admit that there are some times when London feels like awfully hard work. Getting on and off endless buses and tubes and trains. Fighting your way through rush hour crowds. Negotiating the pedestrian crossings at Oxford Circus. Battling your way round Sainsbury’s in Angel on a Saturday afternoon. Encountering numerous random people who seem to be unaccountably angry about absolutely everything, for example, the man at Highbury and Islington station who has been known to stand on the platform and shout “You’re a LIAR” at the TFL guy with the megaphone when he’s just announced that a Good Service Is Currently Operating on the Victoria Line.

But then there are those other moments when London feels like everything you want it to be. Just recently, I was walking down Regent Street on one of those dark, wet evenings when everyone is hurrying to get home. All around me, everyone was elbowing their way onto buses and down into Oxford Circus underground station, but safe in the shelter of my red umbrella, there was something strangely pleasing about dawdling along the street, taking in all the shop windows, and admiring the kitsch Christmas lights down Carnaby Street. Shimmering with the rain, the street seemed transformed into somewhere unexpectedly magical. Perhaps for no other reason that everyone else was hurrying away into the dark at such a pace, for a moment or two, I felt as if the city belonged to me alone.

The crowning touch was stepping into Liberty’s to check out Luella’s Christmas grotto, and of course, to admire the magical Christmas windows – a riot of charmingly festive nostalgia:

For more pictures of the lovely Luella windows, check out Wee Birdy and Wish Wish Wish.

P.S. Whilst we're on the subject of Christmas windows, I must briefly mention the fabulous windows at Harrods, which this year have a special Wizard of Oz theme to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the film! You can even buy your very own pair of ruby slippers, though sadly by the time I had made it to Knightsbridge they had all sold out...

[Liberty's window image via Dazed Digital]

So this week was London Fashion Week, and since this is a blog that is (occasionally, ostensibly) about shoes, I thought it would be good to make the most of the moment and post about some shoe-related antics for a change. Here's my little LFW shoe round-up:

For anyone who was utterly baffled by peep-toe ankle boots last season, I'm afraid it looks like a look that's set to stay with us for a little while longer. Check out Julien Macdonald's and Matthew Williamson's futuristic beauties, just for starters. Personally I love them, but I have to admit they might be a tad impractial for a cold February morning. But then whoever said fashion was supposed to make sense?

Julien Macdonald: Matthew Williamson

On the subject of nonsensical, it's all getting very crazy and structural at Burberry Prorsum, Jean Pierre Braganza and Atalanta Weller, shoe designer for House of Holland. Is it a shoe? Is it a modernist sculpture? To be honest, it hardly seems to matter anymore.

Atalanta Weller via stylebubble

I have to admit I'm can't get very enthusiastic about the studded black statement boot which is set to be everywhere this autumn and winter, a la Christopher Kane for Topshop. Yes, they may pack a powerful post-punk punch. But they also look a wee bit sweaty and uncomfortable. I quite like this bold graphic style by Charles Anastase though.

Charles Anastase

Meanwhile Twenty8Twelve and Julien Macdonald demonstrated that the ubiquitous, and to be frank, deeply unflattering gladiator sandal is set to stay on the scene. Boo to shoes which are not designed for those with, shall we say, a less than sylph-like ankle!

Twenty8Twelve: Julien Macdonald

Why not opt for something a little more jaunty and colourful for jumping through spring puddles? Louise Goldin advocated sweet ankle socks in sugar and sherbet shades; Peter Jensen and Christopher Kane showed lemon-yellow lace-up boots; whilst Betty Jackson and Luella opted for nifty bows on the toes.

At Erdem, models strutted down the runway in mismatched floral pumps; Kinder Aggugini ornamented shoes with butterflies and bows of polka dot ribbon; whilst Mulberry offered us a veritable rainbow of ankle-strap sandals and lace-up high heels. Hurrah for pretty shoes this spring!

Kinder Aggugini: Luella: Betty Jackson: Erdem: Louise Goldin

(For more on London Fashion Week from some proper fashion bloggers, check out Style Bubble and Wish Wish Wish)

Throughout March, writer Fiona Robyn has been travelling from blog to blog to celebrate the publication of her first novel, The Letters, in her very own blog tour.

The Letters is the story of Violet Ackerman, who has "drifted through a career, four children and a divorce without ever knowing who she is or what she wants. After moving to the coast, she starts receiving a series of mysterious letters sent from a mother and baby home in 1959, written by a pregnant twenty-year-old Elizabeth to her best friend. Who is sending Violet these letters, and why?"

It also features a cat called Blue, an unexpected twist in the tale, and (according to Aliya at Veggie Box at least) an impressive number of references to vegetables. What's more it has already won praise from everyone from Scott Pack at Me and My Big Mouth who described it as 'an accomplished and promising début novel' to Vulpes Libres who admired Fiona's 'wonderfully descriptive writing' to Caroline Smailes who described how she 'devoured [The Letters] within a couple of days'.

Fiona has already visited 16 other blogs as part of the tour (you can read the full list here, including where she is going next). As it's now Day 22 I reckon she's probably getting a little weary, so I suggested she put her feet up and then asked her a few questions:

Firstly... it's Day 22 of your blog tour, and you've already visited 16 other blogs. Are you getting at all tired of answering questions about yourself and The Letters yet?

You'd think I would be, but nobody is asking the same questions! It's really interesting how different people have approached the book in different ways, and are interested in different things...

Do you have a favourite question you've been asked on the tour so far?

'Tell us what you grow in your veggie patch' by Aliya at the Veggie Box and Lane asked me lots of good questions about cats. Caroline also asked me some good questions, one involving Mr. Men. You can see that I like to take things very seriously.....

You've already been asked a lot of questions about The Letters: the idea for the novel, the characters, and how it came to be written. To make a change I thought I'd ask you a few questions about the three blogs you write as well as your novels: a small stone; a handful of stones and your personal blog, planting words. How do your blogs fit in as part of your overall writing practice?

I try not to let them interfere with my novel-writing - if I'm writing, then I'll always do that before I do anything else (including checking Facebook). a small stone usually only takes a few minutes a day, and a handful of stones maybe takes half an hour a couple of times a week. I only write Planting Words when I feel the urge, and again this can take a few minutes or up to half an hour. I do sometimes wonder if three is a bit excessive, but it's been ok so far!

What first got you started writing blogs?

I started writing a blog called Creating Living when I was working as a coach, as a way of promoting my services. It was a little bit like Planting Words, and resulted in my book A Year of Questions: How to slow down and fall in love with life. a small stone came next.

What gave you the idea for your blog project a small stone?

The phrase literally arose in my mind one day when I was driving back from the sea. I was thinking about starting another blog for my poetry at the time, but I didn't even know what it meant, and it felt a bit boring as a blog title. It was persistant, and then I happened upon the idea of picking a small stone up and carrying it home from a long walk - something little that you could save from every day.

Which other blogs do you read regularly?

I've always been a big fan of whisky river and have recently found lassie and timmy, both of which have a strong zen flavour. Sarah is always finding good stuff.

I recently wrote a post about how much writers enjoy the actual process of writing, which provoked a bit of discussion. Is the process of writing itself something you find pleasurable?

I find parts of it pleasurable - and parts of it horrid. It's hard to sit down and get started, especially with first drafts. I'm sometimes struck by terrible doubts. But I love reading back a sentence and thinking 'ah, that's a good sentence', or finding something new out about my character. Intensely satisfying. Really, nobody is holding a gun to my head - I'm a writer because it's supremely important to me - and things that are important aren't necessarily fun all the time.

What inspires you? Where do you go to find inspiration when you need it?

Being outside in my garden is good for me - whatever the weather - but I do prefer sunshine! I've been lucky enough to wait for inspiration to find me so far, rather than going out and looking.

Tell us a little bit about what you've got coming up next...

The Blue Handbag is out in paperback in August, and then Thaw in February next year, both with Snowbooks. I'm currently working on a novel about a young boy that goes to stay with his aunt in Amsterdam - I'm off for a research trip this summer. What a life, eh?

And finally (just because I had to ask) do you own any red shoes?

I'm afraid I'm not much of a shoe person - black trainers is pretty much it... I do think they look nice on other people though - I'm sure yours are lovely!

Perhaps you're just more of a handbag person, since your next book is called The Blue Handbag? Anyway, thanks very much, Fiona (for visiting and for complimenting me on my shoes!) and enjoy the rest of the tour!

I’m feeling a little bit jaded today. A little bit monosyllabic. Still, I think half the point of posting something every day is to write even on the jaded, monosyllabic days. I’m probably just feeling grumpy because the 8 inches of snow somehow turned into 8 inches (or more) of rain overnight.

Anyway, time for something lovely. Here we go.


















Yep, it's a picture of a particularly pleasing shoe. Yes, it is red. Yes, it is glittery. Yes, it has peep toes. Yes, it looks like a dancing shoe, possibly a shoe that might be worn on Strictly Come Dancing by someone dancing the samba or the cha-cha in a sequinned 'number'. These are all good things. This shoe is from Topshop. You can see more pictures of it here. I also like it in grey. That's about all there is to say about it, really.

I wish I had had enough energy to have gone along to the launch of the Diary of a Bluestocking retrospective/end-of-residency exhibition at Apartment tonight. In actual fact, I'm on my sofa under two blankets (my house is freezing) but I’m there sipping sherry in spirit.

...'bad for women' is one of the things someone searched for on google which brought them here. I can't imagine why that should be, but perhaps, unbeknownst to me, this is actually very dangerous and subersive. Perhaps it is a bad influence. Perhaps it should come with a warning at the top in big, scary, flashing red letters: BAD FOR WOMEN. Maybe it is bad for women, or indeed... even men (shock!). Perhaps it's just too pink and there are too many bunnies, you know, in a sort of dangerous and subversive way.

Or maybe it's the red shoes that do it. Red shoes have after all been known to be a little dangerous on occasion.

Now for a few messages to some of the other visitors who made there way here via the magic of google search:

to the person who searched ‘leopard tights’: I really hope you meant leopard PRINT tights, not tights FOR leopards. I don’t think that would be practical. It would also be quite weird.

to the person who searched ‘boeuf bourginnone’: I’m very sorry there are no boeuf recipes here. I bet you were expecting lots of nice beefy, stewy-type things, and then you wound up here where there were mainly just pictures of rabbits, and not even stewed ones at that. Actually, I can’t remember ever having actually written anything about boeuf, but it does sound like something I would do.

And finally, to the person who searched ‘you know what they say about girls in red shoes’: what they say, actually, is that they are extremely stylish and fabulous. And that’s really all there is to it.

And last of all, here's a picture of Moira Shearer in The Red Shoes, just because why not?

... today I thought I would post this piece that I wrote back when I entered the Vogue talent contest in 2005. Entrants had to submit three pieces of writing, one of which was an autobiography in 600 words, and this is what I came up with. It's not strictly an 'autobiography' because most of it isn't true, but it could be the autobiography of a fictionalised version of myself. Of all my work, it was the piece which seemed to appeal to the judges most: when I went to the finalists' lunch at Vogue (my very own "Carrie Bradshaw" moment) it was definitely the one that they remembered: people kept saying, "oh, you're the red shoe girl!" Yep, that's me!

And it's true that I am strangely compelled to wear red shoes (the ones above were a present from France). Even though this piece is now over three years old, it seems particularly appropriate to post it here, given the title of the blog and all. After all, it's all very well to talk of going off to follow yellow brick roads, but how much better if you've got a pair of kick-ass ruby slippers to do it in?

So here we go:

The Red Shoe Diaries

1. Red Sandals

They glistened and gleamed, the red shoes. They were perfect, everything a shoe should be. Red, glistening and perfect, like something out of a dream.

She lay on the rug and rewound, just to see Dorothy skipping along in the shiny red shoes. “Their magic must be very powerful, or she wouldn’t want them so badly,” Glinda the Good Witch said. Her own shoes were black, patent-leather, round-toed and squeaky: shoes her mother chose. They were cartoon shoes, something Minnie Mouse might wear, nothing remotely magical about them. At school, the other girls had proper, grown-up shoes, with little heels that they click-clacked importantly in, up and down the playground. But they weren’t magic shoes, either: it was red ones she wanted.

She had a book of fairy-tales with a story in it called ‘The Red Shoes’. The shoes were treacherous but they were magic too. After all, she read, there is really nothing in the world that can be compared to red shoes.

That summer, she finally got them. Red sandals to wear with her white knee-socks and gingham school dress. They didn’t dazzle like Dorothy’s, but she knew they were magic just the same. They were sandals to skip along unknown roads in, shoes that could take you anywhere. They looked quite ordinary, but she knew better. Sometimes she surreptitiously practised clicking her heels together, once, twice, experimentally, just to see.

2. Scarlet Shoes

No one else had scarlet shoes. Their feet were all the same, in their identikit fashion trainers, and they looked scornfully at her in the red velvet high-heels she had bought from a charity shop for a handful of pennies. Back then, they had seemed enchanted shoes, exotic, otherworldly: shoes to wear to a smoky jazz club or a fabulous party in some faraway foreign city. Now, they were giving her blisters, and the other girls were looking down their noses and saying nothing. The drunk man in the corner kept leering at her across the room. “You know what they say about girls who wear red shoes...”

After that she kept them to wear at home: she wore them to do homework in, to dance around the bedroom to David Bowie. Put on your red shoes and dance the blues. Years later, she found them at the back of her cupboard, still waiting for another dance. She thought of the film The Red Shoes with Moira Shearer, which had, for a brief time, made her long to be a prima ballerina. She remembered: The Red Shoes are never tired... Time rushes by, love rushes by, life rushes by, but the Red Shoes go on....

3. Ruby Slippers

They glistened and gleamed, the red shoes. They were perfect, like something out of a dream. Beyond the haze of the shop window, they stood waiting for her. The perfect ruby slippers: crimson Marc Jacobs peep-toe shoes with tiny bows on. They were everything a shoe should be.

“You can’t be serious,” said Emma. “You’re going to spend a month’s rent on shoes! When will you even wear them?” But she wasn’t listening. As she slid her foot inside, she felt the enchanted transformation take place. They were powerful magic shoes, shoes that would never be tired. There is really nothing in the world that can be compared to red shoes. It was true, she reasoned, as she skipped out of the shop and off along the unknown road, going who knows where.