A letter from a reader

At 62, I thought comfortable shoes had to be dull

I have never written to a shop before, and I did not expect my first letter to be about a pair of trainers.

Somewhere around sixty my feet decided they had had enough of pretty shoes. So I did what you are supposed to do. I bought the sensible ones. Beige, soft, wide, the kind you see in the back pages of the Sunday paper. My feet were grateful. The rest of me was not. Every time I looked down I felt about ninety.

I had decided you could have comfortable or you could have nice, and at my age you had to pick comfortable.

So I picked comfortable, and stopped looking at my feet.

Then I saw them on a friend at coffee morning

Margaret came in to the church hall coffee morning in a pair of white trainers that caught the light every time she crossed her ankles. Soft white knit with little sparkling stones scattered over them, sitting on a gentle wedge. I said they were far too pretty to be comfortable, and she laughed and said she had been on her feet since seven. She told me they were the Dalissa, 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 at my sister's birthday lunch

I wore them to my sister's birthday lunch at the pub on Sunday, with my navy trousers. Three different women asked me about them before the puddings came, and my friend Sue told me I looked like I had made an effort, which I have decided to take as a compliment. My sister just said, "Where are your old ones?" I told her they are in a bag for the charity shop.

I walked to the pub and back, and my feet were fine. I had forgotten what it was like to look down and actually like what I saw.

Three things I have learned since

One. Comfortable does not have to mean plain. The upper is a soft stretch knit that hugs the foot like a sock, and it is scattered with little sparkling stones. They catch the light just enough. Pretty, not flashy.

Two. The sole does the work. It is a soft, springy cushioned wedge with a gentle lift hidden inside, so you get a little height without any of the wobble of a heel.

Three. They go on easily. The knit collar slips on and hugs the ankle, and the laces let you fine-tune the fit just how you like it.

About the price

I had assumed anything this pretty that was also this comfortable would cost a fortune.

The Dalissa is £32.95. It was £66.

There is no catch. They have their autumn sale on and delivery is free. Mine are the white, and they come in seven colours, from black, grey and two blues to two shades of pink, from a UK 2 up to a UK 8.5.

I did go and read the reviews before I ordered. 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 wore my sensible shoes for years and hated them. These are just as comfy and I actually smile when I put them on." 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.

If your feet made you give up on nice shoes, do not settle for the beige ones. You can have the comfort and still like what you see when you look down.

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