Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (11)
Posted by Lucy on June 17, 2003, 22:37:19

Hi Everyone! Thank you to Patience, Stu and Arno for
their kind and well-considered comments, and to Scuffy
for adding HIS graduation day account. Not far below
on this forum I was bemoaning the sadness of many of
today's young ladies shuffling about in jeans and
trainers and missing-out on the thrill of smart skirts
and glamorous high stiletto heels. It is even more
incomprehensible to me when other girls like the ones
in Scuffy's account actually go to the trouble of
appearing in a georgeous ball gown, only to ruin the
effect by standing in a pair of flat 2" thick sponge
rubber flip flops. Thank goodness than Scuffy did at
least report some others in high stilettos!
On with episode 11:
Have any of you been not just drunk, but horribly,
frighteningly drunk? It has only happened to me three
times in my entire life (never again!) and one such
occasion was the Saturday after Presentation Day. A
gang of the girls in my year decided to celebrate our
successful completion at the Academy by holding a 'Hen
Party' at a posh country hotel near the town. It was
held in the 'Function Room' - a converted barn in the
lovely floodlit grounds of the hotel, containing an
open-plan bar, dining area and small dancefloor. The
invitations had said 'Dress up to the Nines!' so I
wore a body-hugging deep-purple long satin slit-dress
with and my gleaming black patent 'Alps' 4 3/4"
stiletto courts. We all started turning up in parent's
cars or taxis, and Velma appeared in a very slinky red
dress that I had not seen before and her grey 'Alps'.
In fact, when all nineteen girls had arrived, I was
pleased to see that every one of them had made the
effort to turn up in stiletto heels and none were less
than 3" high. The noise as all those pairs of
steel-tipped heels crossed the wooden dancefloor to
the bar was deafening, and we all rather formally
ordered our pre-meal schooners of sherry. That soon
got our tongues wagging, and began giving us an
appetite for the three- course meal. But as this had
still not been brought across from the main hotel, we
all had another sherry or two. The meal was duly
served, thoroughly enjoyed, and washed-down with
liberal glasses of wine from the bottles on the
tables. Normal conversation was impossibly with
nineteen over-excited females giggling and yelling
across the one great big table at each other. The
desserts and coffees were accompanied by liqueuers (in
many cases three or four!)and by this time we were all
well away! There was no live band, just a radiogram in
a wooden cabinet on which the barman offered to play
'Top twenty' records. Elvis, Tommy Steel and Cliff
Richard had given way to the early Beatle hits, but
bopping around to those soon became boring with no
fellas to dance with. In fact, the only lively music
that really got us going was the conga! We all formed
into a conga snake and Marion led us around the
function room a couple of times before disappearing
outside into the grounds. It had been raining most of
that week, so we all found our stilettos sinking right
down into the lawn. 'Keep going' shrieked Marion, and
nineteen fairly drunk graduates snaked over lawns,
round-and-round the outside of the barn, our stilettos
taking us through the children's sandpit and even
through the paddling pool two or three times. We were
much to squiffy to worry about our shoes and nylons!
By the time the conga-line shimmied back into the
function barn, the horrified barmen saw that our
wonderful stiletto shoes were caked in mud, sand,
leaves and dripping water everywhere. "You can't trail
all that mess on to the carpet or the dancefloor" he
barked, ushering back outside on to the patio area.
'Fair enough' said one of the gang 'It's a warm night,
let's all sit out here and enjoy Miss Sheridan's
present'(Miss Sheridan had very kindly sent us all a
note wishing us well for the party and for our future
careers, accompanied by three large magnums of
champagne for good measure!). Twenty seriously-busy
minutes later, one of the gang pointed at the hotel's
floodlit putting green and said 'I'll bet Lucy a pound
that she can't walk across that in those famous shoes
of hers without sinking in'. Although feeling
decidedly unsteady, I rose to the challenge and won
the bet quite easily by controlling my 'Alps' and
keeping all the weight on my toes as I walked. It goes
without saying that this was followed by all eighteen
of the others attempting the same challenge with
varying degrees of success and failure. Funnily
enough, quiet little Mary who had the lowest stilettos
at about 3" found it the most difficult and was
getting stuck right in at almost every step. 'I've got
a brilliant idea' shouted Velma, 'Let's make this more
fun by making it a proper Impossible-In-High-Heels
Obstacle Course!'. Within moments, despite our drunken
stupour, we had organised
stepping-in-and-out-of-the-row-of-swimming-pool-lifebelts,
followed by balancing-along-the-children's-see-saw,
followed by RUNNING(!)-over-the-putting-green,
followed by
whizzing-down-the-horrendously-steep-concrete-ramp-without-heel-collapsing,
followed by
tightrope-walking-along-the-top-of-a-low-thin-wall to
the final obstacle which was
tip-toeing-over-the-inflated-swimming-pool-airbed-without-bursting-it.
Although in an alcoholic haze, I remember the next few
minutes as one of the funniest in my entire life.
There were girls toppling sideways off the ramp and
off the wall, others getting stuck again in the
putting green, stilettos wobbling and buckling under
people everywhere, heels slithering forwards and
backwards along the see-saw, and Avril even teetered
backwards into the swimming pool! Needless to say, the
poor airbed was punctured by the very first stiletto
heels to cross it, but everyone was so sozzled that
they kept dutifully trampling across the burst remains
anyway. Despite all the hardships and stiletto mishaps
everyone was shrieking with laughter and merriment.
The more ankles twisted and heels became scuffed the
louder everyone hooted until we we all doubled-up and
crying with laughter. Just then it all came to an
abrupt halt when the Hotel manager came shooting
towards us with a less-than-dignified "What the HELL
do you think you're playing at? - Look at my beautiful
putting green and that airbed and those flower beds -
it's all utterly RUINED!". Although now totally
paralytic, we somehow managed to have an instant
whip-round to try to compensate him for the damage.
After that the nineteen of us collected our coats and
handbags and wobbled, teetered and squelched our way
along the drive to the hotel car park. We were so
drunk that even the best and most experienced of us
heel-wearers were wobbling and lurching from side to
side like total novices, and had to support each other
round our waists. Even then more heels buckled and
three or four victims toppled down on to the grass
verge, still laughing helplessly. Many of the girls'
shoes were so spoiled or heel-twisted that they were
useless thereafter. Despite all that damage to our
high heels, laddered stockings, and the compensation
we had just had to to the manager, we all agreed that
the fantastic evening had worth every penny, and Rita
yelled "and a great excuse to buy some even higher
replacement heels!" ....."Yeah, Great!" chorused the
rest of us!
More soon, Love Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (12)
Posted by Lucy on July 5, 2003, 4:14:50

Hi Everyone! In the summer of 1963 I had successfully
completed my business academy course in secretarial
skills, business, administration and personal
presentation. Graduation Day and our group's ensuing
hen party had both come and gone, so I had to think
about getting a job (preferably in the exciting heart
of London!), but first it was the time for our summer
holiday. Previously, being professional people, Mummy
and Daddy had taken me on 'civilised' trips to the art
galleries and museums of Venice, London or Amsterdam,
or on walking holidays in Derbyshire or the Lake
District. However, now nearly 19, I wanted to 'break
away' and have a fun holiday with Velma and two other
girl graduates from the Academy. The four of us asked
if we could go to Little Canada Holiday Camp on the
Isle of Wight together. My parents reluctantly agreed
to let me have my first holiday away fronm them, but
only when they learned that Margaret was well over 21
and would take responsibility for our foursome.
Just before the holiday fortnight, my nineteenth
birthday came around, and my parents had agreed to my
request to pay for (yes, you've guessed it!) yet
another pair of shoes for me (both my pairs of Alps
were getting worn to death). For some time my mind had
been going back and back to Regent Shoes private
consultation room for 'Esteemed Connoisseurs'. The
customers that I had seen didn't look particularly
'esteemed', but they had all emerged with even
higher-heeled shoes than 'Alps'! On various nights, I
had been having recurring dreams about acquiring their
mega-high-heeled shoes! I telephoned Regent Shoes and
was put through to Mr Adler, the managing director (no
less!) said 'Yes, as long as you make an appointment
with my ultra-high-heel specialist, of COURSE you can
visit our special room!'. I whizzed up on the train,
full of anticipation and this time passed through the
curtain into the private holy of holies. What an
amazing site! the specialist sales gentleman waved at
a wonderland a shoes with no heels less than 5" and
many going up to 6", 7" and 8". I blurted 'How on
EARTH can anyone walk in those?'. 'Ah well' he said '
most of these, especially the highest ones, are seldom
worn outside the bedroom'. I found myself saying
'What's the point of that, I like wearing my heels
everywhere'. He replied 'Well, in that case even the
5" courts will be a challenge for your smallish feet.
I advise against going any higher, at least for now'.
With summer and the holiday camp in mind, I slipped my
stocking feet out of my 4 3/4" black patent Alps and
into their pair of white patent leather 5" courts
(Debbie's on Jenny's site look very similar), tingling
with anticipation. However, I was quite unprepared for
for the new sensation. As I stood up, my insteps were
strained right forward over my toes,my pelvis was
thrust up into a new, protuding angle, and I felt
AAAAaaah - indescribably sexy and (I'm ashamed to say)
a 'wet' coming on. I could only manage small steps
around the room, but looking in the mirror, the shoes
had transformed me! Their toes were quite short,
increasing the effect of my feet ands ankles rearing
straight up from nowhere. The side view was
particularly stunning, and then I tried rolling my
ankles from side to side to enjoy the exagerrated
'throw' that the extra height gave to the heels. What
an unparalleled experience! I felt myself becoming
overwhelmed in a sort of delirium, and the salesman
said 'Are you alright Madam? You're looking awfully
flushed! In fact, he had to sit me down and get a
glass-and-a-half of water for me - it was quite
alarming for both of us! I was so embarrassed that I
had paid for the shoes and carried them out of the
shop before I actually remember having decided to buy
them.

I was so flustered that I had walked almost half-way
from Wardour Street back to Victoria Station before I
calmed down somewhat. But then, just after I had
passed Buckingham Palace, the sheer magic and lure of
the hypnotic new shoes started to pray on my mind
again, and they seemed to be acting like a magnet from
inside the box, telling me to put them on again! No
sensation had ever been so compelling! OOooh!, I
murmered, some force stopping me short in the street
and making me tear the box open, put both white
skyscapers on the paving stones (emptily swaying
wildly from side-to-side) and rise unsteadily up into
the two white new demons. I still don't know what
possessed me to brave the streets of London in those
unrehearsed ultra-high stilettos, but somehow I made
it from there all the way to Victoria Station in a
euphoric trance. I still have vague momories of trying
very hard to walk without my knees and bottom sticking
out and of trying not to heel-wobble with
rapidly-tiring ankles, and hearing two shopkeeps say
"How the dickens can todays' young ladies hope to walk
in those!". Somehow I reached the station and
collapsed into my train compartment tired but
ecstatically happy. I looked down at them on my feet
throughout the journey home, twisting them this way
and that to view the heels from the side, only just
coming out of my dream-state and realising that they
were really, really mine!

As the train ground to a halt at my town, I had to set
off in them again and make my way up the platform to
the station's taxi rank. Alas! no taxis there, and
furthermore I hadn't enough money left in my purse to
have been able to pay for one (those ultra-high shoes
were all hand-made
and commensuraterly expensive). As I stood there
trying to decide what to do, I swayed both shoes left
and right on the very high stiletto heels to ease my
stiffening ankles, but I decided that there was no
alternative and I had to walk the mile from the
station to my home! How I managed that, I'll never
know! Despite all my high-heel training at the
Academy, and having worn my 'Alps' daily for months on
end, the strain of enduring an entire mile in those
brand-new-and-stiff 5" patent leather heels would have
to be experienced to be believed. Half of me was
suffering burning balls of the feet due to the
exaggerated pressure thrown on to them, my ankles had
been toiling away whilst depressed to a new
ultra-steep angle, and my knees and back were both
aching with the postural re-adjustments. However, the
other half of me was still elated and thrilled at the
thought of having purchased my best-ever
oh-so-stupendous high heels, and it was this euphoria
that bore me on and got me home still unbeaten and
still wearing the 5" heels. "Great!" I thought, "If I
can manage an ordeal like that, I can certainly manage
to wear them on holiday next week at the Little Canada
Holiday Camp!".

More Soon! Love Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (13a)
Posted by Lucy on July 7, 2003, 23:02:13

Hi Patience, thanks for the nice message! And Hi
everyone else! Can I please just take this moment to
thank the OVERWHELMING and growing host of people who
have taken the trouble to respond to my first twelve
stories, and not an unkind word from anybody! Without
your enthusiastic feed-back, probably I would have
petered-out after the first instalment or two, whereas
as it is, it has been most encouraging, flattering and
rewarding to a still keen 58 (nearly 59!) year old
heel-loving girl. It has made my many years of
ultra-high heel-wearing doubly worthwhile, so THANK
YOU EVERYONE! On to instalment No. 13a:
Having managed to somehow teeter the final mile home
in those brand-new stunningly lovely but (by this time
in the evening) agonisingly painful white patent 5"
stilettos, I had been longing for the wonderful moment
when I could collapse through the front door and
kick-off my amazing shoes for the night. NOT TO BE!
Entering the house I found that Mummy and Daddy were
entertaining three other couples (business associates)
for the evening. Instantly Mummy shot a glance down at
my new ultra-high heels and one look at the
disapproving look on her face told me that this time
she thought I had transgressed beyond the realms of
even her own high-heel taste into the undesirable
extremes of "too high and naughty". However,
re-composing her demeanour, she introduced me to
everyone as her daughter, and visibly relaxed when all
six guests uninimously complimented me not only on my
lovely choice of stylish clothes, but also on "Those
wonderfully eye-catching modern shoes!". Daddy was
standing in the background, but he could not stop his
own eyes coming out on stalks and staring at my shoes
with "Impressed" written all over his face. Years
later, Mummy confided in my that when they were
courting, Daddy had confessed himself to be a raving
high-heel fanatic and that might have explained why
she spent so much time in 4"+ heels! The things we
learn about our staid and respectable parents! Whilst
the guests' praise of my 5" heels was a great relief,
it presented the problem that I could hardly proceed
to kick them straight off there and then, so I felt it
only polite to stand(!) there for as further half-hour
socialising with my feet in even GREATER agony! Both
feet were on fire like a raging inferno with the
toe-pressure, so as I convivialised and fraternised, I
tried surruptitiously shifting my body-weight from one
foot to the other, also tilting each toe up
alternately, tilting the mega-heels as far to each
side and back as I dare, rolling my ankles around and
trying to seek any relief I could. However, I was
suddenly concious that all four men had become
paralysed with fascination and were sneakily peeking
at all my shoe antics with unseemly interest. Mummy
looked horrified and shot my a stern 'Stop that
teasing shoe-play!' glare, so for the rest of the
socialising and ingratiating I simply had to stand in
utterly static heels (that now felt about 9" high and
rising!) and suffer the most excruciating agonies I
had ever endured in my life!

We four Business Academy graduates (Velma, Rita, Me
and Margaret (in charge of our foursome being the only
girl over 21) had booked a fortnight's fun holiday on
the Isle of Wight at Pontin's holiday camp "Little
Canada". Together we took the train to Portsmouth
Harbour, crossed the Solent on the ferry to Ryde Pier
and took a taxi to the holiday camp just inside the
mouth of Wootton Creek. "Little Canada" was so-called
because all the chalets were built like Canadian log
cabins, and in addition to the usual swimming pool,
ballroom, sports field etc. there was an impressive
totem pole in the middle of the site which was
regularly danced-around by dozens of the campers
dressed-up as Red Indians. Margaret had travelled down
in her usual frumpy 2" ('sawn-off-stiletto-stumps')
heels, but the rest of us stepped out of the taxi in
our high 4 3/4" 'Alps' stilettos, expecting to create
quite an impressive arrival. Not a bit of it!
Immediately we learned that ALL holiday camp females
(campers, staff and entertainers alike) seemed to LIVE
in stilettos. They were everywhere! Has anyone got any
old photographs of a good old typical British holiday
camp and its 'campers'? The four of us shared one of
the larger log cabins and started settling-in. I had
kept my new 5" white stiletto courts a secret until
then, but as I lovingly unpacked one and then the
other, the other three girls cried 'WOW!'. Being size
5, they were far to small for Velma and Margaret to
try on, but before I could blink, Rita (size 4 1/2)
was putting them on. Despite a momentary look of alarm
as the sheer height of the heels took her by surprise,
she was off out of the cabin and clack-clack-clacking
around the entire campsite in them with her knees
thrust forward and the most gigantic grin on her face!
It's funny, but whenever high heels fit, they go
click, click, click, and whenever they are too big and
flop on and off your feet they go clack, clack, clack!
We soon discovered that Little Canada's beaches were
not sandy. The Wootton Creek side was thick mud and
round the headland the seaward beach was sharp stones
and broken sea-shells. Undaunted, I donned my swimming
cozzy and stupidly criss-crossed the beach barefooted
numerous times on my way in out out of the sea. I knew
it was feeling painful, but only too late I realised
that the soles of my feet were being lacerated,
punctured and cut to ribbons! Added to that, they had
still not fully recovered from my Buckingham
Palace-to-home-in-5"-heels-marathon, and tomorrow I
had been intending to wear those same shiny white 5"
heels as my secret weapon to win the camp's "Miss High
Heels" Contest! Little Canada (and probably all the
other holiday camps) held lots of such competitions -
"Miss Little Canada" beauty contest, "Mr Knobbly
Knees" contest, "Glamorous Grandmother" contest, and
in the busy season they tacked-on other events like
"Mr Muscle-Man" and "Miss High Heels". The four of
decided not to risk possible failure in the main
beauty contest because the entire camp seemed full of
Marilyn Monroes, Sabrinas, Diana Dors and Sophia
Lorens. However, we agreed that we stood a much better
chance of winning "Miss High Heels" because between
us, our cabin contained a total of 2 pairs of 4"
heels, 3 pairs of 4 3/8" (110mm) heels, 3 pairs of 4
3/4" (120mm) heels and my one pair of 5" heels! "I
know" cried Rita "It's a shame to leave Margaret out
just because she doesn't have any heels over 2".
Velma, as you are going to compete in your favourite
slingback 'Alps', why don't you offer to lend your
other pair of 'Alps' courts to Margaret so that she
can join in? In fact, Margaret was just one of those
unfortunate girls who was just not really a
'high-heely-person' but she agreed to enter into the
spirit of the thing, and very apprehensively stood up
in Velma's spare pair of 4 3/4" stilettos. They fitted
her feet well enough to wear for a short contest, but
they looked awfully incongruous on poor gangly
Margaret as she stood there with her unaccustomed
ankles trembling slightly. Anyway, full marks to her
for being a good sport! Over the camp's loudspeakers
(which were apparently the curse of the neighbouring
village of Wootton) the head entertainer's voice
thundered out that all those girls wishing to enter
the "Miss High Heels" contest should wear their
bathing costumes and their very, very best high heels
and should line-up around the open-air swimming pool
at 3 pm that afternoon!

(Continued directly in Instalment 13b)

Love, Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (13b)
Posted by Lucy on July 8, 2003, 1:40:26

As the appointed hour for the "Miss High Heels"
contest approached, the four of us sallied forth from
our cabin duly wearing our very best and skimpiest
swimsuits and highest heels, and made our way along
the rather tricky downhill path to the swimming pool
area. Disaster of Disasters! My cut and blistered feet
were just about unbearable in my new shiny white 5"
stiletto 'secret weapons'. I could barely hobble in
them, let alone parade in true 'Beauty queen' style!
Margaret was walking even more erratically than me, if
that was possible. A flattie-wearer through and
through, her attempt at walking down a narrow downhill
path in Velma's 4 3/4" stilettos beggered belief!
Luckily she had the pluck to laugh at her own hopeless
efforts otherwise it would have been embarrassingly
sad! Rita looked OK in her 4 3/4" stiletto 'Alps'
courts except for her one incurable fault of
knees-sticking-forwards, and due to my stupid
self-inflicted beach injuries, the only one who looked
truly fantastic was Velma in her 'Alps'slingbacks
(with the slingback straps properly pulled-up behind
her feet for a change!). Arriving at the swimming pool
we gasped in disbelief. Instead of joing a handful of
high-heel contestants, there seemed to be HUNDREDS of
high-heeled girls crowding and jostling about ten-deep
right around the pool! In fact looking at the
surrounding lawn, the audience seemed to consist
entirely of fellas, meaning that almost every female
camper from 10 to 90 owned a cozzy and a pair of
stilettos and hoped to win "Miss High Heels"! At 3pm
sharp the head entertainer blew a referee's whistle to
quell all our chatter, but looked totally bemused and
nonplussed at the sheer 'cast of thousands'. He then
brightened with a good idea and said over the
loudspeaker "OK ladies, that was Heat Number 1, and
all those in timid heels of 3" or less are struck-off!
Eliminated! FAILED!" At this, hoards and hoards of
failed heel-wearers sulkily joined their menfolk and
became mere spectators. Even then, about 70 of us
remained around the pool. "Still too many" I heard him
mutter "Right!" he bawled "We are now looking at Heat
2 and all heels under 4" are axed, kaput, FINITO!", so
this time quite a few girls in pretty nice heels were
eradicated and had to sit and watch. At this point,
the ever effusive Rita shouted out "Just a minute!
What are you judging us on? Surely it's not just
heel-height alone?". "Well" said the entertainer "Me
and the other judges will judge it 50% on the most
smashing pair of high heels and 50% on the most
smashing way that you parade in them!". "Fair enough!"
we all agreed. There were now only about 30 or 40 of
us left - the 4" and over mega-heelers, and it still
included our foursome! This time it got much tougher
and each of us was asked to parade singly right around
the perimeter of the swimming pool. Poor Margaret's
amateurish attempts now became all too apparent, and
her attempts to tame her borrowed 4 3/4" heels
reminded me of a rodeo cowboy getting thrown in all
directions by an irate bucking- broncho. Having
sheepishly teetered half-way around, the inevitable
happened and she suffered the ultimate ignomony of
allowing her left heel to collapse completely
outwards! "INSTANT DISQUALIFICATION!" barked the judge
"OUT! ..... OFF! ...... NEXT!"
(Instalment 13c follows directly)

Love, Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (13c)
Posted by Lucy on July 8, 2003, 2:56:22

As the final heat of the "Miss High Heels" continued,
I was conscious of hobbling very badly on my
excruciatingly beach-lacerated feet. Nevertheless, the
judges seemed to pass me, but eliminated quite a few
other girls individually (including Rita) for very
bent knees, slouching postures etc. and others for the
sin of wearing the least-exciting of the remaining
pairs of high-heeled shoes. Miraculously, Velma and I
both survived into the last twelve for the Grand Final
which was to be held in the Main Ballroom that night!
"Well, they've got to keep you in Lucy, however
painfully you hobble!" said Velma "Because you've got
the highest, best and most stunning high heels in the
entire competition!" I smiled hopefully, but actually
it turned out not to be the case by any means! The
entertainments organiser announced that they had
actually only selected 11 of us for the Grand final at
9 pm that night, because the twelfth person was "A
very strong contestant who had been unable to
participate in the heats but had been allowed into the
final at the Judges' discretion".
The eleven of us (still in our highest of
heels)dutifully click-clicked back to our cabins, and
later on after the evening meal in the enormous
canteen, re-donned our best swim-suits and highest
heels and click-clicked to to stage dressing-room
shortly before 9 pm, as instructed.
At that point in walked Finalist Number 12 - the most
beautiful girl any of us had ever seen in our lives!
Velma and I instantly recognised her as none other
than the self-same 'Cleopatra' that was one of the
"Esteemed customers" collecting her ultra-high-heels
from Regent Shoes the previous year! She immediately
flashed a dazzling smile of recognition at Velma and
me, and obviously remembered our nervously trying-on
our pairs of 'Alps' that day. As the twelfth finalist
for "Miss High Heels", she was dressed to kill! Our
ordinary 'holiday' swimsuits were put to shame by her
ravishing show-biz costume - a specially-designed
stage version in fine satin with thousands of flashing
silver sequins covering the exterior. Her freshly
coiffeured jet-black hair was straight out of a
Hollywood blockbuster, and the dramatic dead straight
fringe had been retained above her black eyebrows and
emerald-green eyes. But her SHOES! They were Regent
Shoes' low-cut plain courts with towering needle-thin
6" stiletto heels and the overall surface was in a
dazzling silver-mirror finish to match the flashing
silver swim-suit. The extreme height of the heels
showed "Cleopatra's" superb legs off to perfection
(not the slightest knee-bend being detectable) and the
rest of us stood in absolute awe, feeling so frumpy by
comparison that we might as well have come straight
from the vicar's tea-party! Well, within moments the
Grand Final began on the stage in front of the packed
audience of hundreds and to the accompaniment of the
Little Canada Band which played raunchy rock and jazz
tunes(including "Put on Your High Heel Sneakers"!)as
we each paraded and teetered back and forth across the
stage. As soon as we saw 'Cleopatra', Velma and I
realised that it was 'No contest', but nevertheless we
both tried to put on our best show when our turns
came. We both 'Catwalk-flipped' away like mad in our
stilettos(or 'Catwalk-hobbled in my case!) and tried
to adopt glamorous smiles and poses, and were very
bucked when we each received a great mass of cheers
from all the fellas in the audience and thunderous
applause which drowned the band! However, 'Cleopatra'
made her dramatic entrance last, and predictably the
entire hall erupted in the most deafening and almighty
ROAR UPON ROAR of approval, plus hundreds of
ear-piercing whistles, pounding-of-feet on the floor
and hammering of fists on all the tables. I've never
heard such a deafening commotion!

Needless to say, 'Cleopatra' walked off with first
prize, and she certainly deserved it! (She told us
afterwards that she made a bit of a career of going
around dozens of beauty contests and seeing how much
prize-money she could win, but she had done the
high-heel contest 'Just as an extra!'). Velma was
delighted to be awarded second prize, but I ended up
not winning anything at all, only coming fourth. The
judges verdict was "A smashing pair of high heels, the
second-best in the contest, but she's got to learn to
walk properly in them". Oh well, you can't expect to
walk barefoot across stony beaches AND win high heel
contests I suppose! So, from the fourth-place
contestant for Little Canada's Miss High Heels, 1963,
Bye Bye for now!

More soon! Love, Lucy

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (14)
Posted by Lucy on July 10, 2003, 4:19:41

Whilst still at Little Canada Holiday Camp, we four
girls continued to have a great time, despite
Margaret's ankle having been rather badly sprained
when she turned Velma's 4 3/4" 'Alps' heel outwards
when competing in "Miss High Heels". As a nice little
sequel to "Miss High Heels", we were quite touched by
the surprisingly large number of girls (mostly
teenagers by quite a few mums who had been eliminated
for too-low heels) who shyly came up to us during the
rest of our stay to ask us four where we had got such
wonderfully high stiletto heels! Naturally, we sang
the praises of Regent Shoes of London's Wardour
Street, saying that the winner ('Cleopatra') also got
her various pairs of incredible 6" heels from their
'Special appointments room". One pretty 3"
heel-wearing girl called Jessy visited our cabin and
nervously said she was going in for the main "Miss
Little Canada Beauty Contest" in the ballroom on
Friday night, and would I mind awfully if she asked to
borrow my amazing white 5" stiletto heels just for the
contest? I explained that our foursome was not
entering, so of COURSE she could, if they fitted her.
She grinned excitedly and tried them on. The fit was
fine, but she was quite unprepared for the whole
change in foot-angle and posture between 3" and 5"
heels. "God, I'd no idea they'd feel nearly so high
and precarious" she breathed, holding on the door
frame. We all said encouragingly she looked smashing
and twice the girl, which she really did! Before
Friday's contest, she duly came and collected my
beloved new shoes. "Listen" I said, giving her the
benefit of my own experience "If those 5" stilettos
heels feel too high for you as you walk out on to the
stage, DON'T let them collapse outwards otherwise
you'll sprain your ankle just like Margaret did. If
anything, place your body weight just to the inside of
centre and you'll look elegant and feel safer". After
the evening meal, in good time for the contest, our
foursome bagged a table near the stage and ordered our
the usual tipples favoured by young ladies in those
days - Babychams or Cherry Bs. The band struck up with
'This Could be The Start of Something Big!' and the
beauty contest commenced. Again, all the contestants
were in swimsuits and high heels, but now the judging
was focussed on their beauty rather than on their
high-heeled shoes, most of which were the same 3" to
4" stilettos that we had already seen around the
swimming pool. Some of the contestants looked a bit
too much like 'brassy barmaid' types to us, but as
with "Miss high heels", each was greeted by thunderous
cheers and applause by all the hundreds of fellas in
the audience. In due course young Jessy did her
circuit of the stage. She had applied her make-up in a
very good and striking way to enhance the pretty
innocence of her face and her hair and royal blue
swimsuit looked really lovely as well. Whoops! we all
said when we caught sight my borrowed shoes. Her
untrained feet were leaning inwards on the heels
rather more than the tiny tilt that I had advised, and
as she very gingerely minced round the stage she was
hesitatingly looking down at them, rather than
flashing dazzling smiles at the judges and audience.
We needn't have worried! The audience went WILD upon
seeing this lovely young apparition in royal blue
swimwear and teetery white 5" heels, and she got by
far the most thunderous set of cheers, stamps and
table-hammerings so far. Having loaned her my best
high heels, I felt a sort of motherly pride in her,
and beamed at her success. Four or five more
contestants followed, and then as before, into the
spotlight came 'Cleopatra'. Gone were the gold and the
silver outfits that we had seen on the two previous
occasions. Now she wore the most sensational 'beauty
queen' bathing costume that was so high-cut on the leg
that her superb thighs were revealed right up above
the hip on each side, and similarly low-cut around the
arms and neck. This time the entire costume was in
sparling emerald green sequins to match her eyes, with
a jet-black trim to match her hair and her amazing
shoes. These were in the shiniest black patent leather
with very low cut uppers showing a hint of
toe-cleavage the very tinnest pencil-line of emerald
green trim running right around the top edge of the
shoes. Her heels were again 6" high and needle-thin!
She wore them beautifully without a hint of a wobble,
with lovely straight, sheer legs and without seeming
to mince or teeter in the slightest! 'Cleopatra's'
sheer beauty and presentation, charisma and
stage-presence were all such that she had the effect
of sweeping everything before her wherever she went.
The entire hall erupted! I thought the din would never
die down! Needless to say 'Cleopatra' won the contest,
and a handsome prize, but pretty young Jessy (with the
dubious help of my 5" heels) came a well-deserved
second place and received her prize (her first ever)
blushing very sweetly. Immediately after the contest,
she came scampering out of the dressing-room and
towards our table in bare feet, carrying my 5" heels
back to me. "Thank you SO much Lucy" she said "It was
wonderful being able to borrow such wonderful shoes,
but their height made my realise that I'll have to get
some of my own and practice an awful lot in them
before I dare appear like that again -I only just made
it round the stage!". "You don't want to borrow
'Cleopatra's' 6-inch sensations just yet then!" we all
joked as we bought her a congratulatory Babycham. That
holiday was such fun and and a real escape from the
realities of life after all our hard studying at the
Academy, but it would soon be time to return home and
start persuing my ambition of seriously looking for a
good job in exciting central London. 'Should I be
thinking about a buying a business suit and
appropriate high heels for the necessary interviews?'
I was already wondering to myself.
More Soon! Love, Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (15)
Posted by Lucy on July 15, 2003, 22:57:24

Hi everyone! I am delighted that Spikesfan says he
will carry-out his kind offer of putting my full story
(yes, he says saved all of my instalments) on
MegaForums to be permanently saved! Thank you to
SpikesFan and to everyone else who has posted saying
that my full story should be saved! Well, here is
instalment 15:
My life had now reached a major turning-point. School
and the Business Academy were now both behind me, and
I'd had my two bits of post-graduation fun with the
hen party and the holiday to 'Little Canada' and its
high-heel contest!. Now it was time to get serious and
start looking for a job, preferably in business to
reflect my training, and preferably in London because
I couldn't think of anywhere more exciting to work and
live! Velma had exactly the same ambition, so we made
a military campaign of scouring all the job vacancy
advertisements, and arranged a series of appointments
with London firms, spread over a single
Monday-to-Friday week. We then booked ahead to stay
for the same period at a bed-and-breakfast hotel in
Sussex Gardens, Edgware Road, to use as our base. Miss
Sheridan and Miss Edwards from the Academy had
instilled in us the importance of disciplined
'business dress' for the interviews. Following their
advice, I had bought especially a light grey business
suite with a stylish jacket and a very tasteful
just-below-the-knee slim-line skirt. under the jacket
I wore a white blouse with a slightly frilly collar
and a black velvet 'Wyatt Earp' bootlace tie. My
outfit was completed with sheer nylon stockings and a
pair of specially-purchased black patent court shoes
with 4" stiletto heels. "Never wear anything higher
than 4" in business" we had been trained. I had even
got a new style of glasses for the interviews,
abandonning the by-now-hackneyed coloured 'upswept
wings' frames and keeping well ahead of the the
fashion trend by choosing a pair of striking jet-black
frames that looked very 'secretarial and businesslike'
whilst adding a certain power to my facial features.
However, as soon as I tried-on the full outfit to
judge the overall effect, I was unhappy with the 4"
high heels. Both the feel of them on my feet and the
look in the mirror were both such a 'come-down' after
having got used to 'living' in my 4 3/4" Alps for so
long. Velma thought exactly the same about her shoes,
and admitted to me that she had completely ignored the
advice about nothing over 4", and had decided to buy a
brand new further pair of 'Alps' courts for the
forthcoming interviews and I grinned wickedly and said
I would join her and do the same! Thus it was back yet
again to Regent Shoes, wearing our new business suits
to judge the full effect properly. Style-wise with our
ultra-smart suits, there was immediately no doubt
whatsoever about the right colour. In both cases the
simple classic effect of shiny black patent leather
won all hands down! They matched my new black-framed
glasses (anticipating the Nana Muscoura(?) and Michael
Cain spectacles fashion) and we also both bought neat
little black patent 'wallet' handbags to match the
shoes. "The overall effect is quite, quite stunning
because of its striking simplicity" said the shop
assistant as she took our money. We found she was
right, because as we click-click-clicked away from
Regent Shoes together, we got far more admiring looks
(yes, and certainly more wolf-whistles) in our new
smart high-heels and business suits than we had in our
colourful social dresses! We grinned at each other and
felt like a million dollars! We only hoped that our
various interviewers would be similarly impressed and
would not feel that we had overdone our heel-heights.
"Still" I thought silently to myself, "I've got to be
me, and nothing lower than my beloved 4 3/4" 'Alps'
suits me or my personality. They've got to take Lucy
as she really is (and as she's really going to be) for
any job to work!".

More soon, Love Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (16)
Posted by Lucy on July 20, 2003, 21:51:27

Hi Everyone! I must stress to you all how grateful I am to Spikesfan for all his trouble and computer wizardry (well beyond my capabilities!) in copying ALL of my instalments (1 to 15) on to MegaForums where, unlike this message-board, they will remain intact and preserved for the future. Thank you VERY much Spikesfan! In the 24 hours since then, I see that several kind replies have started appearing. However as the author of these autobiographical stories, I must take strong issue with "Jo" for suggesting that my stories appeared somewhere else on the Net about two years ago. That is altogether wrong and misleading because I only went on the Net in the Spring of this year, 2003 and started writing all of the instalments on Jenny's High Heel Forum For Girls after someone mentioned Regent Shoes of London and I posted that I bought lots of lovely ultra-high-heels there in the 1960s. Fred replied asking me for details in May 2003, so in the process of answering him, that's how my stories began, and I'm still writing them for Jenny's forum (with SpikesFan kindly copying them from thereon to MegaForums), hence here is instalment No. 16 (written today, Sunday 20th July 2003!):
Having made every preparation for a whole week of job interviews, Velma and myself had travelled up on the Sunday morning to intall ourselves at our bed-and-breakfast hotel in Sussex Gardens. We had time that day to "break in" our new pairs of 'Alps' 4 3/4" high heels be strolling down the Edgware Road to the edge of Hyde Park where artists had their paintings on display. One pavement artist looked up from kneeling at his work and did a double-take at TWO of the highest pairs of stilettos he said he'd ever seen. "Golly! - hold it right there!" he commanded, and insisted that we didn't move a muscle until he had finished a wonderful coloured-chalk picture of our two pairs of legs and shoes from the skirt downwards. I suspect that he might have exaggerated our heel-heights a bit to make them look even higher still, but I wish that we had a camera handy to have been able to photograph that lovely pavement picture! The following morning, we were up with the lark to ready ourselves for the interviews. before putting on my smart new business suit, I scraped my long, straight dark brown hair right back into a tight-coiled high bun (which Mummy said always accentuated my long neck and high cheekbones) and applied my make-up with extra-special care. I wanted to appear 'determined and business-like', so I accentuated my eyelashes and eyebrows by before putting-on my new black framed 'secretarial' glasses, and chose a lipstick that was just a fraction on the pale side of medium-red. Velma worked equally hard on her appearance and looked fabulous, and soon it was time to put on our stockings, business suits etc. and to insert our feet into our latest new 'Alps' high stiletto heeled shoes. Our paths would have to diverge to different parts of London for our own particular interviews. We both hoped to get secretarial jobs, the difference being that I hoped I would eventually work my way up into a managerial position, whereas Velma preferred the notion of staying as a secretary without the added pressures and responsibilities. After both consuming the hotel's "Full English breakfast" (naughty but nice!), we set out to go at least as far as the Edgware Road Underground station, but before that disaster struck. I suffered the stiletto heel-wearer's worst nightmare of the left heel going down into an iron grating. "Oh No!", I cried, "I haven't even attended a single interview yet, and my lovely special shoes are ruined". The patent-leather surface of the stiletto heel was ripped and tattered from top to bottom! I had to tell Velma to go on without me, and I still had time to return to the hotel for my 'original' interview shoes with the lower 4" heels. The hotel receptionist was friendly and sympathetic and said "Don't give up on those WONDERFUL shoes with the damaged heel - drop them off by Paddingtom station where there's a marvellous little shoe-repair man". I did that on the way past, the repairer saying he could re-cover the heel in thin black patent leather in time for tomorrow. Great!, so I would only have to put-up with wearing my (comparatively dowdy) 4" stilettos for the Monday interviews. The trouble was, by coming down to 4" heels, I didn't really feel DRESSED! In the event, it was probably a good thing that my Monday heels weren't any higher, because one of the interviews was with a (then newfangled) double-glazing firm in Fulham and the interviewer was a dreadful old lecher! He was very fat and sweaty with repulsive big brown eyes that leered continuously at my breasts, thighs and high heels. I couldn't really concentrate on what I was saying at the interview, but I suppose it didn't matter in the least, because neither could he! At the conclusion, I couldn't get out of the place quickly enough, having the feeling that if my heels had been any higher, or the skirt on my business suit any shorter, he might have been all over me! Not a good start to the week by any mean, but my two other interviews on the Monday went fairly well although both firms looked insignificant and uninspiring. Perhaps Tuesday would hold better things, and perhaps my repaired 'Alps' with their lovely high heels would bring me better luck!

Love, Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (17)
Posted by Lucy on July 20, 2003, 23:37:36

On the Tuesday morning of our interview week, Lucy and I again sallied forth from the hotel and called in at the Paddington shoe repairer's. He had been as good as his word and was a real sweetie! The lofty heel of my 'Alps' looked as good as new with the replaced leather finish, and I was so grateful that I gave him a good tip whilst working my toes down into my beautiful pair of 'Alps' again. I felt ready for action once more! I won't bore you by recounting each of the various interviews during that week, except to say that it resulted in my getting and excellent job! I visited the Holborn headquarters of a prestigious firm of estate agents with branches in various parts of Greater London. Upon entering their large foyer, I click-click-clicked my way across a shiny marble floor, the heel-noise echoing back from the marble-lined walls. I was greeted by an elegant receptionist who cast an approving look at my crisply-tailored business suite, but appeared to raise an eyebrow at the height of my pristine 4 3/4" heels (I noticed that hers were only about 3" high). Just as I moved forward to shake her hand, my new shiny-leather-soled shoes skidded on the mirror-like marble floor and I almost fell completely flat, just managing to save myself against her reception desk. "Oh dear", she said "That sort of thing will happen if you are wearing those impossibly high heels for the first time!". I choked back the urge to respond that I'd now been wearing that height day-in and day-out for about two years, and it was only her skid-pan floor that caused the problem, and instead I simply smiled and blushed. At this interview I was seen by none other than the overall managing director himself, the very epitome of an English gentleman of the old school. We were still in the days when any self-respecting 'city gent' wore a pin-stripe suite and commuted with furled umbrella and bowler hat. As I entered his office (remembering the Academy's training in "Office entering"), he greeted my with the utmost courtesy and we had by far ther most cordial and civilised interview of my entire week. Somehow, I immediately felt 'at home'. Having scrutinised my graduation file (Miss Sheridan had done me really proud!) and asked me a number of pertinent questions in a most civilised manner, he looked me up-and-down and said "You'll do Lucille - I like the cut of your jib! And furthermore, I'm not going to offer you the secretarial job for which you applied. No, you not only have higher qualifications than that but you speak extremely well" (my Surrey accent must have helped!) "And your whole presentation is one of impressive style and elegance. I wish that even a quarter of our applicants took that much trouble with their hair, dress and shoes, and your whole bearing and poise is befitting of someone destined for a managerial career, so I'm offering you a starting position in junior management.". Exactly what I had set my heart on! I was speechless with joy, and to cap it all, that evening Velma announced that she had found a super secretarial post. Our dreams of living and working in exciting central London were coming true! I think the new black patent 'Alps' high stilettos HAD brought me luck, and neither of us could wait to move up to London (whilst still being able to visit our parents very easily) and start leading adult lives with the employment, interests and fashions (and amazing shoes!) that no-where else in the the country except London had to offer!
Love, Lucy

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (Eighteen)
Posted by Lucy on July 25, 2003, 23:51:27

Hi Everyone! I am writing this instalment (1 on 25th July 2003 and must again thank Spikesfan who has kindly copied all my prevous instalments from my posting site (Jenny's Forum) on to MegaForums for permanent preservation. Also my thanks to Heelfan for joining Spikesfan in defending me against a couple of MegaForums posters who made the erroneous suggestion that my stories might have appeared two years ago! As their author, I can categorically say they did not - they are fresh in recent weeks and still and ongoing!
Thanks also to Stu, who replied on Jenny's Forum that ladies' high heels and smart dress can add a dignity and a positive contribution to the workplace. Stu, I entirely agree with you. My successful interview (Instalment 17) and subsequent experience in the business world quickly taught me something very significant about ultra-high heels: THEY ACCENTUATE THE MESSAGE OF WHATEVER CLOTHES YOU ARE WEARING! For example, if a woman wears tarty, blousy tops and skirts, her high heels immediately emphasise her tarty, slut-like appearance. Conversely, I discovered that if I wear extremely well-tailored, smart, dignified business suits with neat, stylish skirts, then the very same style of ultra high heels simply emphasises my elegant smartness and makes me look 'The efficient businesswoman'. This simple lesson has stood me in good stead throughout my adult career. Well, to proceed with Instalment 18:

Needless to say, Velma and I were beside ourselves with delight at being offered such good jobs in London. Velma accepted a good secretarial job with a firm of textile merchants in the Soho district. My junior management job at the nearby Holborn headquarters of the estate agents would initially involve me in visiting many of their branches (in my high heels!), so I would get to know much of London well at their expense! Next, we needed to find somewhere in London to live. Even in those days, central London was prohibitively expensive, so we found a small 3-bedroomed house in New Cross, South-East London, and advertised for a third girl to join us share the rent. A very young, staid, prim-looking girl called Madeline knocked at the door. She had a pretty, obedient-looking face with a little rosebud mouth and an occasional timid smile. She wore a woolley cardigan, a tartan skirt, short white socks and SENSIBLE SHOES! Velma and I answered the door barefooted, so Madeline had no idea of our propensity towards ultra-high stiletto heels. She liked the third bedroom, and agreed to share the house there and then, and moved in at the weekend. Partly to enjoy our new-found indepedance and partly to get to know Madeline, we invited her to hit central London with us for a meal and a Saturday night out to celebrate our new life as flatmates. Velma and I duly changed into slinky dresses. Velma put on her 4 3/4" stiletto heeled 'Alps' slingbacks (despite the back-straps never staying up for long) and I was feeling so happy that, despite the long initial walk down Pepys Hill, I sensuously inserted my feet into my (then) highest heels - my white 5" stiletto courts from Regent Shoes! Madeline was the last to emerge, but oh dear, oh dear! Her 'Night out' costume was a prim gingham-check pink-and-white dress and a pair of beige 'old ladies' shoes with 1 1/2" stumpy Louis heels! When she saw Velma's and my towering stiletto heels for the first time her eyes grew wider and wider with astonishment and wonder. Neither of us made any comment at the time, but later on with some food and drinks inside us, Velma couldn't resist asking Madeline "Don't you have any higher heels for these sorts of nights out?". "Well" said Madeline "I do have one pair of 2 1/2" slightly slimmer heels that Mother let me buy, but she wouldn't let me bring them to London. Mother says 2 1/2" heels are the very highest that respectable girls like me should wear, and even those are to be saved back at home in Hampshire for me to wear to important weddings and things". Velma said, "Well what about your own wishes, what do you think of Lucy's 5" heels for instance?". Madeline blushed as red as an over-ripe tomato and stuttered "Well, I've always been told what to do by Mother. She would be furious if she could hear me now, but I admit that Lucy's shoes look WONDERFUL! I've seen lovely high heels in magazines and worn by film-stars, but I'm never allowed to even THINK of wearing anything like that!. How does it feel when you wear them, do you feel elegant?" "I'll say!" said Velma "That and much more besides!". Sunday morning saw Velma and I inviting Madeline down into the sitting-room where the two of us had lined up our (by now quite impressive) respective collections of high heels, all between 4" and 5". "There" said Velma "Try any of them on for yourself". "I daren't" said Madeline "Mother would crucify me!". We both piped-up together and told her that Mother didn't live with her any more and that she was grown-up and starting an adult life working in London. "Well, I feel very naughty and disobedient" Madeline said "But I suppose just trying them on the once won't do any harm" Velma's size 7s were far too big for her, but my size 5s were perfect. "Start with my black 4" heels" I said. But Madeline, blushing again with a strange mixture of apprehension and daring ignored my 4" heels, and reached straight for my lofty new black patent 4 3/4" stiletto 'Alps' and put them on. "Oh ...... Amazing ....... Amazing ........Amazing" she kept saying. She stood up and teetered around the central dining table, her slender ankles wobbling somewhat as she experienced true stilettos (and high ones at that) for the very first time. "Oh, just think what I've been missing for years ..... Amazing!". We couldn't get them off her! She insisted on trying a little Sunday morning walk to the park and back in them - click-click-click(extremely slowly and gingerly but with no major accidents), kept them on during our midday lunch, wore them around the house all the afternoon, and even by the evening when her feet were to sore to stand up in them any more, she sat listening to the radio with them on, and wanted to wear them in bed until I finally 'Put my foot down' and reclaimed them. "Lucy" she said "You don't know how much those AMAZING shoes have done for me; I realise that have served to liberate me from my Mother! Where can I buy my own amazing shoes like yours ....... will you and Velma take me there tomorrow?".

Love, Lucy