I'm in Macy's in New York, trying on shoes, and the grey pair of Calvin Klein's are divine. I look at others, but this is the pair I want, and suddenly the feeling is familiar. Wait - I know, I've had this feeling before: shoes are like men. You know straight away.
This trip to New York, alone, was a birthday treat to me, a kind of Israel tour after GCSEs, a belated 21st birthday present. People said I was brave or crazy. But I'd done my homework: I had a list of restaurants where single girls can sit at the bar and eat alone. Not that I did any night.
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