Galoshes… the boots, not the cookies

I have been wanting a pair of galoshes for years (I had a slightly traumatic experience on campus one day when I literally dumped a small pond out of my running shoes) and going to England seemed like the perfect excuse to buy a pair.

So I did. I got a good deal on a really cute pair (not that I would have bought ugly ones) with a houndstooth print.

But when it came time to pack, I was worried we wouldn’t have room. So I left the cute galoshes behind; and when Jay decided it was OK to take six bags, it was too late to go back to Waterloo and get them.

It has rained the past 5 days.

I have no galoshes.

We went to London (aka one of the fashion capitals of the world) this weekend and guess what everyone was wearing?

I’ll give you one hint: not asics running shoes.

The were wearing galoshes. Everyone was wearing galoshes.

So had I brought the boots I would have fit in, been (somewhat) fashionable, and (most importantly) had dry feet.

Damn.

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