My ideal........pair of shoes

I was in my room the other day, twiddling with the bass on my brand new track. It's a trip-hop version of the classic Happy Birthday song, keeping the melody the same, but more spacey, and replacing the words "happy birthday" with ex-boyfriends' names. I was almost done when the battery on my drum machine died. Exhausted, I decided instead to imagine the ideal pair of shoes.

Hollywood has taught me a lot about shoes and how they affect romantic relationships. Jeff Goldblum sat up and took notice of Laura Dern primarily because she was wearing those charming little hiking boots. Julia Roberts took Richard Gere's shoes off in a filthy park and made him walk around barefoot, this somehow demonstrated her great attitude to life and endeared her to him. Now, whenever I meet a shark-like corporate raider, the first thing I say (breathily) is "take your shoes off". The second thing I say (still breathily) is "not on the lips". This shows that, sure, I'm a lot of fun, but also, importantly, I'm extremely respectable.

This next question is going to sound really flirty, so maybe you should sit down and arrange your face to flattered. Um . . . do you exercise every now and then? Like, go for a run a couple of times a month? It shows, Boo, good job. Got the right running shoes? Before you answer that, let me clamp my hand over your mouth and show you my latest invention. The Wheeled Moccasin is currently with the patent office. You’ll see I simply sewed four little wheels into the sole of a moccasin. It will make your jogging much smoother, with an enigmatic Native American vibe. I’ve devoted myself to developing Wheeled Moccasins ever since Flip Tops (shoes that click open on sunny days, extremely sensual) failed to corner the lucrative 18- to 30-year-old male market.

Children grow out of shoes very quickly. Despite this, leaving them barefoot is frowned upon by practically every social worker and judge I’ve come into involuntary contact with. A cost-effective and adorable solution is to pop into your local butchers and ask him to hollow out a couple of pigs’ trotters for your infant. Paint the little nails pink for a girl, red for a boy and allow your baby’s trotters to stick out the end of the pram slightly, daring other parents to comment.

I’m after a pair of kicks that would make a snake grow feet with envy. I want shoes that’d make a mermaid renounce the sea for eternity. Every centipede will cry “give me 50 pairs of those bad boys, I’m size tiny” when they see these hot-steppers. My dream shoes must have heels that click together three times and transport the wearer into a place that’s not like home at all, where work is easy, cake is a vegetable and relationships are simple. When I find those shoes and click those heels, I’ll be so busy dancing around that marvellous planet that I’ll never kick myself again.