I’m thinking of implementing traditional Chinese foot-binding techniques in the Sundae household.

This week, you see, has been dominated largely by footwear and it’s nothing to do with fetishism – more the expense of ever-growing feet (the children’s) and an indecisiveness (mine) about where to stand in the no-man’s land between winter boots and flip-flops for a cold damp spring.

After a toe-post malfunction in the village post office which a Royal Mail stapler couldn’t fix, I rushed into Oxford to choose new flip-flops and, enthralled by the range of colour and sparkle, ran amok.

There’s something ‘Now magazine celebrity’ about swinging giant bags of bling-rich footwear, though, as they’re chain-store cheapies rather than Christian Louboutin.

It might cost the NHS expensive treatment for trench foot, as my hardy approach to wearing the new gems left me with cold toes which matched the purple-navy hues of sandals designed to complement denim.

Meanwhile, in this era of austerity, I’ve been encouraging the children to eke out their school shoes like tubes of toothpaste, clinging on with monkey toes for eight weeks until the end of term.

I glued the soles of the Middle One’s dilapidated pair back together overnight, a quick fix for crocodile-snapping with every step. The following morning, his face fell in horror as I told him that pirates are all the rage this season and pegged toes are just peg-legs cut back for the recession.

He hadn’t realised the clothes pegs hanging from the front were a temporary measure and not an additional design feature In September, the Middle One’s school trainers had promised to see him through any amount of cross-country running and playground penalties.

But the fabric has waned and weathered to destruction, leaving him with neon-laced legionnaires sandals ripe for a museum case marked ‘Roman relics’.

But wait a minute – they could be mistaken for shabby-chic flip-flops.

Perfect for summer!