Cash in boots

My lovely parents bought me some lovely boots for my lovely birthday. The boots I settled on were from the Gudrun Sjoden winter sale. You can only buy Gudrun Sjoden stuff online, unless you live in Stockholm, Malmö, Gothenburg, Oslo, Copenhagen, Hamburg or Nuremberg, and it's a bit of a pain, frankly. But the clothes are so completely unlike anything I see anywhere else that occasionally it's worth it. In the sale -- as they are also on the pricy side.

These ones are purple. They call it aubergine. They were £160, now £120. This makes them the most expensive boots I have ever owned by a factor of at least two, but they are lovely, and when things are lovely I wear them for years and years. I looked at a photo of them for several months, and I didn't want them any less. These are not a crush, or an impulse purchase. This is love.

So I ordered them. They took ages to arrive. Imagine my excitement when they arrived the Friday before my birthday, and imagine my disappointment when they turned out to be too big. They came straight off like wellies. I tried them with my very biggest socks (which are very big) but no. If you're going to have posh boots, they have to be the right size.

I checked on the website, and they still had the 37s in stock. I rang up to double check and it was the last pair. I asked them if they could put them aside for me until I could return the other ones but they said they couldn't. So I had to buy another pair. At this point I had spent £240 on boots. At the end of the month. My overdraft was creaking. I packed up the 38s to go back asap for a refund.

Then yesterday I got an email saying that the 37s had, in fact been out of stock, so they had refunded my (second) £120, but they would be back *in* stock on Feb 4, so I might like to re-order them.

I rang them up again. They said they had one pair. I should buy them now. I said hang on, you've taken £120 for the first pair, which were too big, so I'm sending them back, but you still have my £120. You've taken £120 for the second pair, which you say you've refunded, but it hasn't appeared in my bank account yet. Now you want £120 for a third pair? This could go on forever! Am I financing your entire operation?

Ah, she said. Well, I can put this pair on hold for you. I wish you'd done that last time, I said, when you said you couldn't. But great, thank you. So if I send back the 38s, you'll replace them with the last pair of 37s, which you're putting on hold?

Well, she said, when you send back the 38s, it will look like the 37s are out of stock, because they're on hold, so you'll have to put a note on the return slip to tell them that they aren't really out of stock.

Right, I said. OK.

So at the moment I am down £240 (actually, technically now I am down £120 and my dad is down £120 as in the meantime his money came through) and have no boots, but you've got to (try and) have faith. If these ones don't fit, I'll cry. And there has to be an easier way to get shod.

joella