It's hereditary, honest.

Up until today I thought the hereditary compulsion to buy shoes, which has so viciously afflicted my mother and younger sister, had bypassed me.

That was until I gathered up all my shoes ready to be packed away for when I move.

The pile is so large that I have to climb over my bed to get past it.

It includes;

4 pairs of boots
3 pairs of trainers
2 pairs of black pumps
1 pair of diamante studded heels
1 pair of Birkenstocks that I fully intend to break in. One day.
1 pair of red sling backs (forgot I had them!)
1 pair satin T bars (too cute to get wet)
1 pair of utterly fantastic 4 inch wooden platform wedges

I could go on but I'm frightened the pile of shoeboxes will collapse and my flatmate will have to dig me out.

Dad's going to kill me when he sees this lot.And the two humungous suitcases of clothes are also not my fault. I maintain I have an illness, I can't help it. I need help. And a wheelbarrow to shift them.

That's my story and I'm sticking with it.