Beautiful expensive sandals creating grubby, dirty feet

A PAIR of designer sandals are doing an incredible job of caking their owner’s feet in filth.

Nikki Hollis’s statement footwear is failing at its basic function as a shoe by letting dirt and small rocks filter through its thin, expensive straps, thereby ruining her fashionable aesthetic.

Hollis said: “I wanted my feet to look sophisticated and cute. Maybe even turn the head of a pervert. But instead they look like they belong to a Dickensian street urchin.

“I paid £90 for these. The least they could do is protect my feet from the dust and debris that seems to be on every walkable surface. Honestly, I expected more from clothing that was probably made by a child labourer.

“If I wanted to look like a peasant or some Bristol crusty, I’d go barefoot. Strappy sandals with a flimsy, five-millimetre tread should provide as much protection as a pair of Dr Martens. I’m within my rights to report them to Trading Standards.

“Throwing them away would be admitting defeat, and pairing them with socks is obviously a bad idea. I’m left with no choice but to wear them for the next 30 years until they fall apart.”

Sandal-maker Emma Bradford said: “Exposing them to the outdoors was Nikki’s first mistake. Sandals are only meant to be worn by waifish supermodels in photoshoots. Everyone knows that.”

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Six ways to survive having a friend who drags you to shit gigs

ANDY Burnham is helping struggling music venues, but this is bad news if you’ve got a muso friend who keeps insisting on seeing awful bands. Here’s how to minimise your suffering.

Get pissed

Alcohol numbs the pain of being dumped and having your leg sawn off, so it also works on indie bands. Just be careful not to get so pissed you’re having a massive alcohol rush and appearing to really enjoy yourself. Two months later your friend will say: ‘Guess what? I got us some more tickets for Pookie’s Death Caravan!’ On a Friday. Hooray.

Train yourself to like shit music

Inure yourself to bad music by compiling playlists that are the worst musical experience possible, eg. lurching from Congratulations by Cliff to the GoCompare song to Hip To Be Square via Skrewdriver. Then when you’re seeing a band that are merely crap it will be like seeing Hendrix in his prime.

Get a cat

You can only cry off gigs by feigning illness so many times. Not so with cats, who suffer from a host of ailments like delicate tummies, and often go to the vet in the evening for stuff like having their claws trimmed. Don’t worry if you hate cats. You’ll soon adore this particular moggy because its sudden, made-up vomiting is stopping you listening to a bunch of sub-Hives wankers who think they own the world.

Earbuds

Obviously the invisible ones. And if you squint you might even be able to pretend the members of the dire band you’re watching actually are the far better band you’re listening to. This has exciting possibilities. Suddenly these no-hopers with a blonde singer are Blondie in 1979! Just try not to get carried away and start screaming ‘Play Fade Away and Radiate!’

Sacrifice a rook to save the queen

You can’t stop a music obsessive mate inviting you to gigs, but you can have a strategy. Actively volunteer for gigs that are close to your home. It’ll still be a crap gig and a crap evening, but it won’t involve endless f**king around with trains or a night bus journey you suspect may turn into some genre of horror movie.

Find a patsy

Your friend wants you to go to the gig, but they’ll probably accept a substitute rather than go alone like a saddo Nick Hornby character. Assure an acquaintance that the gig in question will be great: ‘They’re saying Headrest Orgasm are the new Radiohead!’ Admittedly the people saying that are Mr and Mrs Don’t-Exist. Just make sure you pick someone you don’t care about ever sleeping with or liking you.