I'm currently aching all over (no, not swine flu - or as Mac calls it "swing flu") but because of a present from my beloved husband. When he presented me with a pair of Fit Flops as a reward for getting - ahem, drum roll please - 97% on my First Aid course I wasn't sure whether to hit him or not. What was he suggesting? I know that I could do with losing a few (!!!) pounds and toning up a tad but, quite frankly, I was a tidge insulted.
Not any longer. They are fabulous. I can't praise them highly enough. They tone you up whilst you are walking, making your leg and bum muscles work harder. They're ergonomic. And that's the extent of my knowledge on the subject. Apart from knowing that, after wearing them last Friday for half an hour whilst I walked Mac to school and back, I came back home, kicked them off and felt the buuuurn. And I mean buuuurn.....my buttocks (excuse my French) ached as if I'd done an extensive work out. And I'd stopped off at Ayres on the way back for a doughnut!
Bea, naturally, is horrified and is beseeching me to "get rid of them darling, its practically porn for your feet, it's ugly, offensive and......eurgh!". She's forbidden me to wear them in Dulwich (and therefore anywhere near her house) and resembled Davina McCall even more than she usually does (in tone and actions) when she came face to face with the offending items this evening. "Aaargh, how COULD you come to the DOOR wearing them? Eeeeeshk!" she squealed before running down the path and leaping into her chauffeur driven Mercedes.
I dread to think what she'd say now: I'm wearing my Fit Flops and my Slanket.