It’s every little girls dream to know the feeling of importance, sophistication, and most of all, the high heeled elegance one pair of attractive shoes can deliver.
In my teens I had my share of stunning footwear, to know what it was like to effortlessly balance into infinite party hours on 41/2 inch shining pins and not flinch one bit as bones ached to be free. I remember every beautiful pair. But the one pair of shoes I loved most of all – were yours.
They hid in a gloomy corner at the bottom of your wardrobe, concealed by long dresses and heavy coats, never once seen on your feet. I wondered why such pretty shoes should be condemned to shadows?
Pressing girlie feet into the toes of your divine shoes, I was Cinderella in glass slippers. Clumsy, teetering on falling, I clipped and flipped all the way from the bedroom to the kitchen, to demonstrate what you were missing. Hands on hips, question marks in radiant eyes, I asked, “Mummy, are these your shoes?” Your expression was a mixture of impending laughter and annoyance at the realisation of how clever your baby had become. Hidden things would no longer be easy to keep to yourself.
You told me they were your wedding shoes. I looked at your flat heeled sensible footwear and guessed those pretty shoes were a part of you I’d never know. You would have liked to have told me to put them right back where I found them, but you were were too kind to say such things.
Jubilant at my discovery, I blundered my way round the house in wedding heels, wondering what kind of man I’d marry and if he… he’d like my shoes.
I imagined living in London just like you, where traffic was never still, pavements filled with shoppers, and I… lady of the city, walked with confidence.
Just for one day, I borrowed the image of a beautiful woman I found in an old black and white photo, and walked in her shoes.
My mother on holiday wearing those wedding shoes.
Did any of you girls clip around the house in your mothers shoes?
I don’t think I’ve ever heard of boys wearing their fathers shoes… so what is it boys do to feel like they could be their dad?
Most of this summer I shall be tackling the decorating of my little home, it desperately needs a serious makeover! I’ve been spending time decluttering recently, which is partly why I haven’t posted anything on here for a long time, plus I’m still a little behind with a lot of my lovely WordPress friends posts. It’s going to be a busy summer in a very practical way. I will probably not be online as often as I have before, and not posting that much this year. I may take a while to get back to some of your blogs, but will definitely be passing by when I can.
I’ll certainly catching up with posts in the next few days, so if you’re wondering where I’ve been, I’m on my way!
I might have more time than I think… at least I hope I will, but just not sure at the moment how it’s going to go. Once I get my mind out of the creative world and into the practical, it’s like I’m wearing a different head!! I really hate decorating, it’s not one of my good skills, but just got to get on with it, and hopefully it will be good to look at when it’s finished.
I’m planning on keeping the posts for The Writing Garden unchanged, and will certainly be about online here and there during 2017. But if I’m absent for a while and you wonder where I am or what I’m doing… imagine me with a paint brush in my hand! 😊