Cinderfella's slippers. These are not women's shoes. They're too small for me, but I just couldn't pass em up. They looked like they've been danced in a carpeted cage or around a block a few times--London's Trade in Clerkenwell or Orange in Vauxhall.
But those British and their shoes--these may be cheap looking, but they aren't cheaply made. The inside is supple kid leather and the little bitty straps are like dainty horse bridle buckles. So, how did these nasty little things get across the Atlantic?
He packed em up to do a little partying in South Beach, and never went home. American food, barefoot beach walking and the salt air caused fallen arches and splayed feet. Finding the man who fits the slipper will be impossible. Let's do that.