Women and shoes, eh? It’s a favourite “throw arms in the air, roll eyeballs skyward” dismissal of womankind’s inherent lack of gravitas. Except that men are just as bad — if not worse.

A 26-year-old shoe fetishist, Omar Abd-el-Gowd, was in court recently for robbing women of their shoes. He had moved from Stockton-on-Tees to London because, his barrister explained, “he found that fashionable ... and sexually attractive shoes were to be found in greater abundance in the capital”. His shoe fetishism had caused problems in his love life, because he was more interested in what his girlfriends had on their feet than anything else.

Now, undoubtedly, it is a huge infringement of personal liberty to have a man assault you on the street by running his leg down your calf and removing a shoe. But equally frightening, in a different way, is the fact that this intense fascination with shoes has become such an ubiquitous presence in day-to-day life. An ex recently admitted to me that his thing for shoes (which I remember well — I have the corns to prove it) has now turned into a thing for Christian Louboutins specifically. I suggested he get into drugs instead, because, at £400 a pair, he would soon be in Clink Street if he continued to indulge his habit.

Lord only knows how shoe fetishism, a psychological disorder, has become more socially acceptable than the perfectly natural act of sex itself. But it has. In America, a gay talk-show host lavishes excessive airtime on adoring his female co-host’s Louboutins. (The red-soled devil strikes again.) Ewan McGregor once kissed a mutual friend’s foot because he admired her suede Gucci heels. And remember the fuss over Theresa May’s hideous shoe collection?

We live in a shoe-obsessed society. Which is why I am proposing a third way, a new British republic, a Shoenited Kingdom. In reality, it would be much like the old Britain, only the class system would be entirely dictated by the shoes you wear. This would see the aristocracy immediately relegated. Instead, owning a pair of original Manolo Blahnik mary janes would be the equivalent of living in a stately home. And it’s the end for the royal family, in their sensible flat shoes. Although we might keep on that minxy wife of Tom Parker Bowles (does she count as royal?), because she has lots of high heels — proper ones that hurt, not those frumpy mid-heels that Kate Middleton wears. Middleton: middle-class. That’s where she’ll stay in the Shoenited Kingdom.

In the land of the shoe fetish, you see, high heels don’t just reign supreme — they’re holy. Women wear agonising, impractical shoes, with their attendant corns and bunions, as a form of slow, persistent self-flagellation. And it makes them feel not only taller, but better people. As that wise sage Manolo once said: “A hobo in Jesus sandals, with black nails ... I think this is what evil looks like.”

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