My most beloved vintage possession

Today I thought I would tell you about my most beloved vintage possession. My knees. While the rest of me will be turning 40 next year, my knees are going to be 198. I swear my mum picked them up cheap second-hand.

Earlier this year my dodgy knees took a sudden turn for the worst, and I was off to see the surgeon. Both of them (knees, that is, not surgeons) were diagnosed with mild arthritis. Yick. In fact Double Yick. So dancing was been off the agenda for most of the year. Stairs, curbs, hills and wheelchair access slopes were all mountainous. It was depressing. I felt ALL of my 198 knee years.

During the year I've put on a bit of weight. BUT, I don't care...

Because, through lots and lots and lots and lots and still lots more BORING physio exercises aided by hours of Poirot, (thank-you Agatha Christie) I have been cleared of needing any kind of intervention, because my little knee caps are now going where they are supposed to go and not whipping off around the side of my leg-bone. (Ok, so I also don't care about technical terms today). If I look after them they should last me for another 198 years.

Today my elderly knees and I had a little celebration in that I pulled out a pair of heels that haven't seen any use.  Yes I KNOW you have seen me in heels in outfit posts, but that was mainly cos I missed them, so would put them on for a wee bit and for the photo.

But today I WORE heels. 

Thank you Miss L Fire for designing something worth all those painful lunges and leg lifts.

Hurrah!! I kiss my knees!! Smooch!!

(And please, if you have a bit of you that is feeling a little bit more vintage than the rest of you, go get it looked at, it might take far less work to make it right if you don't leave it like I did)