A letter from a reader

At 62, I finally have slippers I am happy to answer the door in

I have never written to a shop before, and I certainly never thought my first letter would be about slippers.

For years mine were the squashed-down, trodden-at-the-back sort. Warm enough, but the moment the doorbell went I would kick them under the coat stand and answer the door in my socks. The postman, a neighbour with a parcel, my son in law turning up early. I did not want anybody seeing me in them.

I thought I had to choose between slippers that were cosy and shoes that looked respectable. So I chose cosy, and I hid them every time the doorbell went.

So I gave up. Slippers were for behind closed doors, and that was that.

Then I saw them on a friend at her own front door

I called round to my friend Pat's with a birthday card, and she opened the door in a neat pair of blue slip-ons with white stitching and a little wedge sole. I assumed she was on her way out. She laughed and told me they were her slippers. They were the Carelle, from Nottingham Boutique, a little boutique that has been quietly dressing women our age for a few years now. I ordered mine that evening.

What happened when the girls came round

On Saturday I had the girls round for lunch. I answered the door in my new slippers, and before they had their coats off three different women had asked me where my shoes were from. My friend Sue told me I looked like I had made an effort, which I have decided to take as a compliment, given I was in my slippers the whole afternoon.

It sounds a small thing. But for the first time in years I did not rush to the door in my socks, and I did not give my feet a single thought all afternoon.

Three things I have learned since

One. They look like proper shoes. A soft suede-look finish, neat white stitching and a low wedge sole. Nobody guesses they are slippers until you tell them.

Two. They are properly cosy. There is a soft fleecy lining inside and a cushioned sole underneath, so my feet stay warm on the kitchen floor on these cooler autumn mornings.

Three. They are easy. They slip straight on, there are no backs to tread down and no straps to bend down and fiddle with, and the supportive shape keeps them secure on my feet. The textured sole grips the kitchen tiles too.

About the price

When I saw the price I was suspicious. Slippers that look this smart, I assumed, would either cost a fortune or fall to bits by Christmas.

The Carelle is £24.95. It was £50.

There is no catch. They have their autumn sale on, delivery is free, and they turned up looking exactly as they did in the pictures.

I did go and read the reviews before I ordered a second pair. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.2 stars. Not the suspiciously perfect five you see on some sites, which if I am honest made me trust it more. One woman had written, "I answered the door to the vicar in these and he asked me if they were new shoes." That was the one that decided it for me.

What I would tell you if we were friends

If you came round and we sat out on the porch with a cup of tea, this is what I would tell you.

Throw out the squashed slippers you hide behind the door. You are allowed to be comfortable and look nice at the same time, even in your own hallway.

They do not look like they were made for somebody half my age, and they do not look like I have given up either.

Caroline