Feet...

... I'm not sure what's going on with my feet - or should that be my trotters? They seem to keep growing in size, swelling to gargantuan proportions and have developed the ability to turn even the most comfy of shoes into instruments of torture.

I can think of only one reason for this. Primark. I failed to be seduced by their tatty clothes - but I will admit to becoming slightly delirious in the shoe section. Did you know that you can get a pair of pumps for £3.91? Yes £3.91 (of course you're not meant to think about from what they are made, or which small blind pigmy child sits steadily stitching your oh-so-cheap shoes with their bloodied, swollen fingers in a sweatshop nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas).

I bought four pairs and a pair of sneakers and two handbags and four pairs of socks - all for the princely sum of £31.82. There are only about four things in Mr Boden's catalogue for that - and they're all in the sale in a size 18.

But it seems that my feet have developed a conscience and have been punishing me ever since. The maid of honour insists that they'll get over it and very soon I'll be skipping down the road in my bargainous shoes and begging her for more Primark trips. I must say - I wondering if I shouldn't have got the white ones too?