I'M sick of people going on about weight. Gaining weight, juggling weight, losing weight down the back of the couch and finding it three months later – just shut up, all of you.

So you’re too fat to fit into that dress you’ve spotted? Tell it to Oprah. At least you can buy a nice pair of shoes to cheer you up.

And thus we come to the root of my rant.

I am a tall girl, 5’11’’, and lovingly referred to as ‘‘in proportion’’ by my mother. This means that I am a) not as slim as I could be and b) in possession of rather long limbs and appendages. My feet are size 11, which roughly translates to REALLY FREAKING BIG. And therefore, really freaking hard to be shod.

Everyone’s so obsessed with fat cells – what about foot sizes? Have you ever seen Oprah shedding a tear for all the poor unfortunates who can’t find their size at Betts and Betts? How am I supposed to remember my spirit when my shoes are so ill-fitting I can’t even remember my own name?

You see, dear reader, no one has been prepared to dedicate themselves to the cause of the plus-sized foot.
Until now.

Girls (and I know you’re out there), you are not alone. I know what it’s like to act my shoe size and come off more mature for it.

I understand the heartache of owning a pair of boots that may very well be a snug fit but could probably double as a spare room with ensuite.

I can appreciate the embarrassment of being able to snorkel rather well sans flippers. And yes, I can comfortably wear my boyfriend’s shoes.

All this is good and well (except maybe the bit about the ensuite) but what really gets my goat is women like me with size 10-plus feet are almost completely unrecognised by shoe retailers.

If you are a female and happen to have feet larger than size 10 you better get used to men’s sneakers because, unless you’re prepared to shop dawn-till-dusk to find something else, that’s pretty much all you’re going to get in Adelaide. And forgive me for being cynical but black nubuck cross trainers are not my idea of evening wear.

There are a few ‘‘specialist’’ shoe shops for hard-to-fit feet, but unless you’re in the market for a nice pair of Hush Puppies or gold slippers with velcro fasteners, or you can take out a second mortgage to afford hand-made Italian designer heels, you can count them out.

Going by these shops, it seems women only sprout large feet when they acquire a hefty salary or turn 65, whichever comes first.

Of course you can always wait for the post-Christmas sales when major retailers thoughtfully put out a size 10-plus table with at least six pairs of shoes on it, which is then swooped upon by frenzied, large-footed ladies like seagulls on a chip.

For those of you lucky enough to have feet in the 6-10 size range, this is a typical conversation between me and a shoe salesgirl:

ME: Hello. I’m looking for a nice, stylish shoe in a size 11 please.

SALESGIRL: Oooh, I don’t think we have anything like that. We only go up to size 10, and we only get about two of those in anyway. It’s amazing how many people ask for larger sizes!

ME: So . . . do you just tell them all to sod off then?

SALESGIRL: Well, we do try our hardest to cater for the freaks. That’s why we have one size 11 in these big, old fawn-coloured sandals that not even your grandma would wear. They’ll be in the back storeroom covered with cobwebs from two seasons ago. Would you like to try those?

ME: (Impales SALESGIRL with a shoehorn and sticks a bottle of Waproo down her throat.)

End scene.

Once, when I asked for a size-11 knee-high boot at a shop in the city, the only shoe the girl could offer me was a sandal. In winter. Call me a troublemaker, but if you can only provide one whole section of the market with a summer shoe at the beginning of winter you’re hardly on top of things in the world of footwear, are you?

So next time you’re whingeing about not being able to fit into your jeans, remember, at least you can go for a walk in style.

First published in the Sunday Mail, April 24, 2013.