Some girls are fools for love, some crumple at the sight of a branch of Hotel Chocolat. I can’t resist a well-turned heel. Seven months pregnant or not, these saucy offerings from Nicholas Kirkwood are pure Puss ‘n Bootieliciousness and high up on the Christmas wish list. Santa can find them here.

for some reason patrick cox were the shoes to have where i come from. everyone had them. they were so coveted in the north, shaun ryder famously swore about them on tfi friday, so beginning the slow demise of that show (nice one shaun, it was getting a bit monotonous).

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anyway, precisely because everyone and his mam had patrick cox shoes, i ignored them. but something happened today – i fell in lust with several pairs of naughty heels. i simply have to have at least one pair but these are no wannabes, so which one? let the beauty pageant begin!

first up is laina, a saucy little sandal with the hollywood glamour of gold lizard skin and an ankle strap combined with rock chick chain detailing.

second we have tiziana, another luxury offering in gold lizard skin, which takes the standard stripper-shoe block sole and gives it a slight japanese-feel uplift at the front, giving it a perky insouciance.

and last but not least, the tantalizing tara, a bootie topped off with goat hair that should be funny but somehow just makes me purr for its funkiness. it makes me think about strutting to george clinton or betty davis.

what is going on? everything i want/need recently seems to come from finland. marimekko have always occupied a soft corner of my heart (sometimes i think i’m only moving house so i can buy their new fabrics) but now the finns are taking over.

first it was minna parikka’s shoes, all pony-girl fiestiness in shiny patent or vibrant suede colours. then it was IVANAhelsinki and their kinky, kooky clothing. the collection ‘loghouse lover’ has me pining for a winter of snowdrifts.

book me on a husky safari for christmas, santa’s only got one shopping destination in mind.

i fell in love again this morning. with 130mm of heel from miss vivienne westwood, who sends a valentine to women and englishness with every stitch.

buying something from vivienne westwood is my ultimate treat, a reward for being good that instantly makes you feel naughty. what could be better?

miss westwood reminds me of queen elizabeth I as imagined by derek jarman. i saw her once on the victoria line, many years ago. she sat opposite me in an absolute grump. no makeup except for a vermillion mouth. as i beamed at her like an idiot, every wild yellow kiss-curl said ‘i couldn’t give a sh*t’ and i’ve been smitten ever since.