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Lucy · 29th October 2004, 07:11

Posted by Lucy H. F. on October 29, 2004, 5:46:44

Hi Everyone, Heelfan calling! My introduction for Chapter 54 also serves for Chapter 55:
CHAPTER 55

Passing through the gate of Windsor Castle, we entered an enormous courtyard and grounds. Many tourists thronged everywhere, including a coach-load of Japanese couples. Their flat shoes made me feel very self-concious and out-of-place in my ostentatious 6” heels, and in fact we found that more and more of the Japanese were noticing my shoes and even began clustering around to have a look! These days, nice smart skirts and high heels are extremely fashionable in Japan, but in the 1960s they must have been an almost unknown experience. The Japanese ladies gazed at my 6” heels with a mixture of interest, fascination and wonderment, whilst the gentlemen appeared to be either hypnotised or virtually beside themselves! They reminded me of the excited little group that had followed Velma, Madeline and me half-way round the British museum some months beforehand. Moments later, their coach driver started shepherding them out of the castle, and as they tore themselves away , they all gave me and Clarence a sea of grins and waves!

“Come on Loo” said Clarence, “Let’s go inside”. To enter, we had to walk past a motionless guardsman resplendent in bearskin hat and red tunic. Although the royal guards are world famous for never moving a muscle, Clarence murmered to me that as I had click-click-clicked past , the guard’s eyes had not been able to resist following each of my tottering steps!

For the next two or three hours we had a fascinating time exploring the countless and varied rooms, halls, towers and terraces of Windsor Castle. The interiors were superb. We were both captivated by the splendid oil paintings of Rubens, Holbein and Van Dyke. Clarence pointed-out that one of the huge Van Dyke’s depicted a bygone king wearing shoes with bright red high heels!

By now, my feet were getting tired! Having my feet forced into such an unnaturally vertical position for several hours on end was stretching and straining all of the sinews around my instep, ankles and calves. However, I bravely carried on. There were countless ancient stone stairs to navigate. As any high-heeled lady will know, going up them was dead easy, one just used the toe-part of ones shoes, but coming back down was a nightmare! Descending stairs in high heels is difficult at the best of times. But not only was I wearing 6” heels but every step was worn into a slope from 900 years of use and this pitched my high-heeled shoes forward on every step. The opposite effect of the entrance ramp was now occurring, and I was terrified that my heels would throw me forwards down the stairs! Again, Clarence came to the rescue, this time walking down immediately in from of me so that I could put both hands on his shoulders. We must have looked like a most comical couple that day, and several people had a good old grin and chuckle at us!

However, my shoes did get me one reward. Although Queen Elizabeth was in residence, a few of the state apartments were open to us visitors, but they had superb wooden floors. Just ahead of us were four London girls were just ahead of us all wearing stiletto heels. The custodian banned them from entering and spoiling the floor! However, when our turn came, Clarence pointed out that although higher, my “Betty Page” heels were not as thin as their stilettos and would not puncture the floors. “OK” agreed the man and waved us through, to the utter indignation of the four girls who stood and gaped as my skyscraper heels passed the inspection!

In those days, the celebrated royal collection of drawings was housed in a stone-vaulted gallery underneath one of the terraces. Both being most interested in old masters, we avidly admired all the wonderful drawings by Leonardo Da Vinci, Holbein and other. Being familiar with many of them from books, we were surprised at how small many of them were, being often no bigger than the printed reproductions. But it was such a thrill to see them!

Lastly, Clarence suggested a stroll around the terraces and battlements. By this time my 6” heels felt 12” high and the balls of my feet had started to scream, but so as not to spoil the magical day, I mustered a smile and said “That would be lovely”. Emerging on to the battlements, the view was stunning. Windsor Castle is on elevated ground like an island set in the middle of the flatness of Windsor Great Park and its wonderful trees. The view goes on for miles. Despite my agonising feet and wobbling on uneven flagstones, the lofty empowerment of those awesome shoes, the sheer grandeur of the castle, the breathtaking view and the romance of the setting sun all made me feel like the happiest girl in the universe!

Our exit down the castle’s approach ramp was somewhat ignominious, with Clarence having to walk in front with me staggering along behind him repeating my hands-on-shoulders staircase routine, but we were almost the last people to leave so that there was no-one to laugh at us. “Straighten those knees” barked Clarence jokingly. “Have a heart!” I retorted, “You ought to try 6” heels sometime. It was difficult enough on the flat along Southampton quayside, let alone expecting me to descend from lofty castles like this!”.

It was now dark and we realised we were getting hungry. With Clarence gripping my hand very tightly to support me, and going very slowly to accommodate me teetering progress, we walked a short way down the High Street (more downhill torture) and down into Peascot Street (more downhill torture!) where Clarence knew a nice restaurant. Half-way down, from the opposite pavement suddenly came the most almightly clatter sound. We looked across in alarm, but saw that it was a rather stunning teenage girl in a miniskirt, stockings and clattering along in extremly high steel-tipped stiletto heels with the slingback straps trampled down. She was accompanied by about seven youths of her own age, hero-worshipping her and following her like the tail of a comet. Clearly enjoying her star status (and obviously the local teenage heart-throb) she clattered this way and that, her steel-tipped heels making a loud but very provocative statement, and as we entered the restaurant all those lads were last seen slavishly following the noisy slingbacks everywhere.

“Oh Lucy!” said Clarence as we settled into our restaurant chairs “What have I done to deserve such an amazing girl? And seeing you climbing all over that castle in your tight skirt and those 6” heels was mind-blowing! You’re a girl in a million!”. Was this the right time to tell Clarence that this had been the best day in my whole life?. No, better still, ignoring those around us, I leant over, put my arms around Clarence and gave him the longest and best kiss I’d ever given anyone.

Love, Lucy H. F.

29th October 2004, 07:11	#62 (permalink)
Lucy I'm a Silver Member Join Date: Jan 2004 Location: London UK Posts: 124 Thanks: 0 Thanked 1 Time in 1 Post Rep Power: 6	LUCY'S STORY Chapter 55 Posted by Lucy H. F. on October 29, 2004, 5:46:44 Hi Everyone, Heelfan calling! My introduction for Chapter 54 also serves for Chapter 55: CHAPTER 55 Passing through the gate of Windsor Castle, we entered an enormous courtyard and grounds. Many tourists thronged everywhere, including a coach-load of Japanese couples. Their flat shoes made me feel very self-concious and out-of-place in my ostentatious 6” heels, and in fact we found that more and more of the Japanese were noticing my shoes and even began clustering around to have a look! These days, nice smart skirts and high heels are extremely fashionable in Japan, but in the 1960s they must have been an almost unknown experience. The Japanese ladies gazed at my 6” heels with a mixture of interest, fascination and wonderment, whilst the gentlemen appeared to be either hypnotised or virtually beside themselves! They reminded me of the excited little group that had followed Velma, Madeline and me half-way round the British museum some months beforehand. Moments later, their coach driver started shepherding them out of the castle, and as they tore themselves away , they all gave me and Clarence a sea of grins and waves! “Come on Loo” said Clarence, “Let’s go inside”. To enter, we had to walk past a motionless guardsman resplendent in bearskin hat and red tunic. Although the royal guards are world famous for never moving a muscle, Clarence murmered to me that as I had click-click-clicked past , the guard’s eyes had not been able to resist following each of my tottering steps! For the next two or three hours we had a fascinating time exploring the countless and varied rooms, halls, towers and terraces of Windsor Castle. The interiors were superb. We were both captivated by the splendid oil paintings of Rubens, Holbein and Van Dyke. Clarence pointed-out that one of the huge Van Dyke’s depicted a bygone king wearing shoes with bright red high heels! By now, my feet were getting tired! Having my feet forced into such an unnaturally vertical position for several hours on end was stretching and straining all of the sinews around my instep, ankles and calves. However, I bravely carried on. There were countless ancient stone stairs to navigate. As any high-heeled lady will know, going up them was dead easy, one just used the toe-part of ones shoes, but coming back down was a nightmare! Descending stairs in high heels is difficult at the best of times. But not only was I wearing 6” heels but every step was worn into a slope from 900 years of use and this pitched my high-heeled shoes forward on every step. The opposite effect of the entrance ramp was now occurring, and I was terrified that my heels would throw me forwards down the stairs! Again, Clarence came to the rescue, this time walking down immediately in from of me so that I could put both hands on his shoulders. We must have looked like a most comical couple that day, and several people had a good old grin and chuckle at us! However, my shoes did get me one reward. Although Queen Elizabeth was in residence, a few of the state apartments were open to us visitors, but they had superb wooden floors. Just ahead of us were four London girls were just ahead of us all wearing stiletto heels. The custodian banned them from entering and spoiling the floor! However, when our turn came, Clarence pointed out that although higher, my “Betty Page” heels were not as thin as their stilettos and would not puncture the floors. “OK” agreed the man and waved us through, to the utter indignation of the four girls who stood and gaped as my skyscraper heels passed the inspection! In those days, the celebrated royal collection of drawings was housed in a stone-vaulted gallery underneath one of the terraces. Both being most interested in old masters, we avidly admired all the wonderful drawings by Leonardo Da Vinci, Holbein and other. Being familiar with many of them from books, we were surprised at how small many of them were, being often no bigger than the printed reproductions. But it was such a thrill to see them! Lastly, Clarence suggested a stroll around the terraces and battlements. By this time my 6” heels felt 12” high and the balls of my feet had started to scream, but so as not to spoil the magical day, I mustered a smile and said “That would be lovely”. Emerging on to the battlements, the view was stunning. Windsor Castle is on elevated ground like an island set in the middle of the flatness of Windsor Great Park and its wonderful trees. The view goes on for miles. Despite my agonising feet and wobbling on uneven flagstones, the lofty empowerment of those awesome shoes, the sheer grandeur of the castle, the breathtaking view and the romance of the setting sun all made me feel like the happiest girl in the universe! Our exit down the castle’s approach ramp was somewhat ignominious, with Clarence having to walk in front with me staggering along behind him repeating my hands-on-shoulders staircase routine, but we were almost the last people to leave so that there was no-one to laugh at us. “Straighten those knees” barked Clarence jokingly. “Have a heart!” I retorted, “You ought to try 6” heels sometime. It was difficult enough on the flat along Southampton quayside, let alone expecting me to descend from lofty castles like this!”. It was now dark and we realised we were getting hungry. With Clarence gripping my hand very tightly to support me, and going very slowly to accommodate me teetering progress, we walked a short way down the High Street (more downhill torture) and down into Peascot Street (more downhill torture!) where Clarence knew a nice restaurant. Half-way down, from the opposite pavement suddenly came the most almightly clatter sound. We looked across in alarm, but saw that it was a rather stunning teenage girl in a miniskirt, stockings and clattering along in extremly high steel-tipped stiletto heels with the slingback straps trampled down. She was accompanied by about seven youths of her own age, hero-worshipping her and following her like the tail of a comet. Clearly enjoying her star status (and obviously the local teenage heart-throb) she clattered this way and that, her steel-tipped heels making a loud but very provocative statement, and as we entered the restaurant all those lads were last seen slavishly following the noisy slingbacks everywhere. “Oh Lucy!” said Clarence as we settled into our restaurant chairs “What have I done to deserve such an amazing girl? And seeing you climbing all over that castle in your tight skirt and those 6” heels was mind-blowing! You’re a girl in a million!”. Was this the right time to tell Clarence that this had been the best day in my whole life?. No, better still, ignoring those around us, I leant over, put my arms around Clarence and gave him the longest and best kiss I’d ever given anyone. Love, Lucy H. F. __________________ Life is not a rehearsal. Why not use it to present ourselves as smartly and attractively as possible?