We all have a fetish of some sort, some are more bizarre than others. A conversation and the subsequent stares that followed at the family reunion with a cousin had me giggling.

She admitted she cannot stand people with bare feet. Fact being she owns over 400 pairs of shoes and cannot go without having shoes on her feet I kinda get that.She also cannot stand bare feet on herself or anyone else for that matter.

I wonder sometimes if my own acceptance of people and kink and fetishes has made me not really blink an eyelid when it comes to peoples quirks these days.

As a female I do get the shoes thing. I have a few pairs but no where near that many. Shoes are great they can make you feel sexy, taller, they go with different outfits and they can make or break an outfit. Some shoes are so damn sexy you have to have them on sight. Everyone has something in their life that brings them joy in collecting or owning. Shoes are most definitely great and it seems to be a woman thing. I am different however that I enjoy having bare feet, I grew up in the country, we didn’t have to dress up all the time and most days it was gumboots of barefeet. I did love my riding boots when I was working with the horses and I still have a boot fetish.

Hehe all the guys at the table were kinda shocked at the amount of shoes she had. How many dudes do you know with more than 5 pairs of shoes? I don’t know many and when I do come across a guy that appreciates shoes it’s great! Guys have their fetishes too. One guy I know has a sword and knife fetish, his walls in his den are adorned with all sorts of blades, imported and rare collectors items, they are beautiful. He also has a huge thing for Lord of The Rings and has a mahoosive collection of figurines, sculptures, books and various bits and bobs.

I have a wee bit of a fetish with fonts and design stuff and books. My fonts fetish is big. Right now at a rough glance I own about 25,000 fonts. I won’t even blink when it comes to buying design books. So really the shoe thing doesn’t surprise me. I avoid adding up the cost of the fonts I own, some are commercial ones and not cheap to have. The comics, the books the design gear, it’s an expensive hobby which has now become work and a passion. But I have to have them all the same. I don’t care. It makes me squee when I gain a new acquisition for my ever growing collection.

I have a fetish for one off clothing, original stuff, shirts with funny slogans, gothy clothes, steampunk stuff too. I have many little quirks with all sorts of things.

I also have a fetish for doing things differently and not being a sheep.

Some people have a fetish for odd and quirky things but at the end of the day it can be a wonderful thing and it’s great to see people expressing themselves. In my cousins case it’s her way of expressing herself by the shoes she wears on any given day.

So what’s your biggest quirk, fetish?

Do you care what other people think?

Do you hide it?

Four generations gathered together. Scottish blooded kiwis.

Nana, her clan of six children, her grandchildren and her great grandchildren.

The only person who wasn’t there was Poppa and he was missed. He’d be proud of his family. As dysfunctional as we all are, there is a huge amount of love to go around.

There was lots of laughter and jokes, squabbling between sisters, kids playing happily, old photographs handed around and giggled at.

Nana turned 80 a few days ago, we had old neighbours from when we all were little. Nana and Poppa lived in a big old house in a small street in a country town. Things back then were simple, family was always close and we all lived in each others pockets. Cousins were all like sisters and brothers, we all spent alot of time at Nana and Poppas house. Looking at all of the photos and hearing all of the stories bought back some very special memories.

There were dramas which is nothing new when it comes to our dysfunctional lot. A cousin having a drama llama moment and sulking at everyone. Hillarious entertainment from ones of the kids. Drunken aunts who were ‘cheap dates’ as they called it, one and a half glasses of wine and the voice levels rose and tipsy as hell including my mother who doesn’t normally drink. Family speeches. Nana punching an aunt in the arm for ‘taking the piss out of her’ and aunts and uncles crying with laughter… Nana wears her shirts tucked into her pants and for a family photo all of her children all tucked their shirts in their pants. Hehe.

It’s been a long three days and I am absolutely shattered but glad I went. The best part is I got to see aunts and uncles who came from overseas and from places far away who were a big part of my life growing up. Distance and time doesn’t sever the good bonds that are there.

Somehow I don’t think there is going to be another time where all of us will be gathered in one place together, it was a special time and one I’ll remember.

Now I just need to sleep and re-engage my brain into functioning again.

The thundering waves are calling me home to you
The pounding sea is calling me home to you

I’m away at a family reunion/gathering for the next three days so I shall have to do a blog catch up when I get back.

I’ll leave you with food for thought instead …

People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will

never forget how you made them feel. What you risk reveals what you value.

Respect for ourselves guides our morals; respect for others guides our manners.

When angry, count four; when very angry, swear.

Who could ever thought
that behind the iron mask
so cold and hollow,
is the flesh of a child’s
so tender and warm
unto its deepest core.

Never imagined
to see such fantasy
and emotions in confinement
hidden through the masquerade
in a ballroom of paradox
dancing among, the ignorant.

Constantly struggling,
longing to break free
they waited for the blessed
to reach for the key
as they search for my face
before those written mirrors.

~Seymour Nightweaver~