Spikes Fan

Moderator's note:

These stories were originally posted by Lucy who is a contributor on Jenny's Discussion Forum. Spikes Fan has kindly reposted them here for you:

Lucy's Story (1)
Posted by Lucy on May 22, 2003, 14:59:13

Hi Fred! Thank you for your kind interest. I am a
businesswoman who has always believed in wearing a
smart suite and high heels. The best way of answering
may be to tell my story. In order to be brief, I'll
tell just the first part. Then, if anyone expresses an
interest in hearing more, I'll post further
instalment(s). Born in 1944, when still in primary
school (just South of London, Mummy and all the other
ladies went out in highish but thickish '40s/50s
heels. Stilettos had never been seen. Then quite
suddenly, in 1956 when I was twelve, stilettos hit the
streets! Everyone reacted! Grandma and her generation
said they 'Looked cheap', but Mum soon came home
wearing brand new dark brown 4" stiletto courts. They
looked MARVELLOUS to me and my schoolgirl friends that
saw them and we yearned to be old enough to get some
ourselves. In the meantime, I asked to 'Try-on Mummy's
heels'
even though they were too big for me. I'll never
forget the moment I stood up in them - WOW!
Immediately I felt like a woman. My whole posture
changed, I shot up in stature, combined with an
elegant precariousness. From that moment I
commandeered them and virtually 'lived' in them around
the house after school, although Mummy always had
first call on them for her proper outdoor wear. We all
worshipped Elvis Presley. A girl's magazine published
a centre-spread colour photo of a little bit of Elvis
each week, and I bought successive editions which I
had to stick together to finally make a life-size
Elvis picture. I remember gazing at my giant Elvis and
imagining how impressed he would be if he could see me
perched on those 4" stilettos! A year or two later, I
was still 'living' in Mummy's same shoes around the
house when I started realising that they were no
longer flopping off my feet. My feet had grown to fit
them perfectly! I was then about thirteen-and-a-half,
and my class (mixed girls and boys) were planning and
end-of-term class party at a small local ballroom.
Some of the boys had formed a skiffle (forerunner of
rock-n-roll) group and being out of school hours, the
organiser told us girls that we could wear high heels.
I promptly pleaded with Mummy to let me wear her
lovely 4-inchers out of ther house for the first time,
but she said 'No, thirteen-year-olds are too young for
heels, but she took me to the shoe shop and bought me
some 2" kitten heels for the party. I tried to look
pleased, but really felt dull in them after wearing
her 4" heels for so long at home. As the party date
approached, it got worse when two or three of the
other girls in the class boasted that they had been
allowed to buy 3" stilettos for the party. Finally,
the party date arrived and I did a very naughty thing.
I went off to the party wearing my new 2" heels, but
with Mummy's 4" stilettos hidden in my bag. I'll tell
you how I got on in them and other later adventures if
I get any response wanting to hear more. Love, Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (2)
Posted by Lucy on May 23, 2003, 2:30:25

Thank you for your encouragement Fred, Spikesfan and
Sinkem! OK, so on we go: On the way to the class party
I changed into Mummy's 4" stilettos, immediately
experiencing for the first time the sensation of
clicking along the pavement (instead of on our
soundless carpets). It was so grown-up! Entering the
dance-hall, I saw straight away that I had the highest
heels amongst us thirteen-year-olds. The boys in our
class seemed to notice it too. I also wore a nice
black dress and some make-up, but most of the nudges
and admiring glances were caused by my footwear.
However, I began finding that a long evening's
standing, balancing and jiving (1960's dancing) on a
hard floor was much more strenous that pottering and
sitting around inside the home. I found my ankles
beginning to wobble and tremble with the strain of
trying to stand erect, and before the end I turned one
heel (it collapsed outwards)right in the middle of the
dancefloor in front of all my classmates. It was
utterly humiliating, and I remember fleeing to have a
cry in the ladies room. My stupid pride prevented my
from changing into the 2" kitten heels for the 1-mile
walk home with some of the others, so I wobbled and
teetered the whole way back in Mummy's shoes, turning
one of them over twice more before changing out of
them on our front path. Entering the house, my angry
mother said "WHERE ARE MY BEST SHOES YOUNG LADY?"
She'd missed them! I sheepishly took them out of my
bag and she put them on saying "What have you done to
them Lucy? they feel different - all weak and unsafe".
There was an almightly row with my parents about me
spoiling them by wobbling around in them when I was
too young and inexperienced. However, soon afterwards
good old Daddy placated us both by offering to buy
Mummy a new 4" replacement pair, and a similar pair
for me so I didn't mess around in Mummy's any more,
but on one condition: that I must practice walking
properly in mine and must not overdo it again. So I
now chose my VERY OWN 4" HIGH HEELS at only thirteen,
a dark red pair with the uppers low-cut at the toe and
sides. I was determined to master walking in them much
better in future and every time I put them on a tingle
shot through me and I felt like a film star. I was all
set to show the outside world my OWN heels! More heel
progress to follow (if you are still keen?), but my
current heels belong right at the end of my
mini-memoirs! Love, Lucy

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (3)
Posted by Lucy on May 24, 2003, 1:15:00

Hi Sinkem, Erica, Scuffy, Cheryl, Stu, Patience, Fred,
Spikesfan!, and thanks to Firefox for conserving my
little offerings on the Mega Forum -All extremely
flattering - thank you everyone! To continue: I should
have mentioned that the very first stilettos to
explode into the shoeshops in the 50s were Italian (I
think) and most had the bottom half of the heel in
naked shiny steel to deliberately liken them to
STILETTOS (thin daggers), the name which has stuck
ever since. Unlike today, there was very little
variation in styles, but then there didn't need to be
because they were CLASSIC and FANTASTIC. They were all
plain courts (pumps) with no frills, straps or other
nonsense, with low-cut uppers covering only our toes.
I still think nothing has EVER beaten those classic
50s stilettos for sheer class. I was indescribably
thrilled to have MY OWN 4" STILETTOS when still only
thirteen. To avoid further humiliation in public, I
restricted my first walks to short errands to shops
and back,trying to keep both heels upright and
strengthening my necessary ankle and leg muscles.
Although not wanting make my beloved shoes rickety, in
odd standing-still moments I could not resist some
deliberate side-to-side rocking (as now advised in
Jenny's 'wearing' section)when no-one was looking in
order to sense the sheer height and femininity of 1/4"
thin stilettos. It might seem silly to adults, but it
was unbelievable thrilling to a girl just entering her
teens. Over the years, I have seen a number of women
sneakily enjoying wobbling their heels like that,
particularly when in stationary queues. In the 1950s,
stilettos abounded in their THOUSANDS. Just about
every teenager and every mother wore them, always
fully visible with skirts and stockings (no jeans!).
Hardly anyone yet had a television, so on saturday
nights many hundreds of people flocked to the cinemas
and dances, and there were HOARDS of stilettos heels
click-clicking throughout the town. Whole armies of
us! A constant problem was getting our heels stuck
between paving stones, but councils soon responded by
filling all the narrow cracks with cement. The second
problem was caused by all our stilettos having
ultra-pointed 'winkle-picker' toes. Firstly, the
extreme slope of the shoe cause our toes to become
rammed agonisingly forward towards the point, and
secondly, the empty point itself tended to curl
upwards in an ugly way. We all eased these problems by
pushing a wad of cotton wool into the empty point.
Also, in those pioneering days, some manufacturers did
not yet put a strong metal shank into the arched sole.
I saw a lot of girls walking on mis-shapen shoes where
the stiletto heels had become angled right forwards
towards the toe-box. For some reason, our group of
girls called these "Quaking" shoes. This distortion
would pull the heel of the shoe backwards, allowing
the foot to slop out of it at every step. On saturday
nights, it became quite fun to hold a "Spot the
quakers" competition amongst ourselves. These days,
high heels seem to be made with much more strength and
professionalism. As our confidence grew (and when
parents weren't looking),we started wearing our high
stilettos to school. One morning when about five of us
came clicking towards the school, the most enormous
cheer went up from all the boys. We felt like a
million dollars and grinned away like mad! In class, I
think the male teachers were secretly turned on by our
heels, but several female teachers were snidey. Our
English mistress (who still wore old-fashioned thick
40s heels called our heels 'Silly skimpy efforts' and
our attractive young French mistress who WAS trendy
and with-it in very high stilettos looked vaguely
miffed that us youngsters were giving her serious
competition. However, these heel incursions only
lasted a few months because one morning the
headmistress asked all the girls to stay behind after
assembly and told us that heels over 1" were banned
forthwith. We were devastated, except for a few class
frumps who never wore heels and who adopted smug
smiles. However, we wore our heels all the more out of
school, and within school more and more sexy flatties
began appearing. Elasticated closed-in horrors(now
called 'loafers')were dropped in favour of black
leather courts with slightly sculpted-in 1" heels and
very low-cut toes. It quickly became the "in" thing to
go for loose sizes that we could flip-flop and clatter
along the corridors in what we thought was a
provocative, rebellious manner. However, again the
headmistress called us all together. We were ranked
into long lines and had to pass a test where we took
turns to stand on tip-toes, and any shoes that failed
to stay gripping our heels were banned from school.
Thus those of us with loose flatties had to report
back soon afterwards wearing snug-fitting versions.
But again the headmistress was thwarted: as we girls
walked along the corridors, it suddenly became a
hilarious craze amongst the packs of boys to spring
towards us from behind and stand on the backs of our
flatties, resulting in a sudden heap of empty left or
right shoes littering the floor and a load of
one-shoed girls hopping about. 'Sprogging'they called
it. It spread like wildfire to every class in the
school until at every breaktime all corridors
resounded with the yelps of triumphant boys and the
plaintiff protest of us girls. Our shoes suffered this
constant sprogging countless times each day, until our
heel-backs all became trampled down so much that even
those new well-fitting shoes were all flopping away
merrily with the headmistress seemingly powerless to
do anything more about it. At going-home-time, the
townsfolk saw over three hundred schoolgirls emerging
and running for buses and trains with their sexy
flatties flapping and flying about in all directions.
Then the ultimate damper happened. Not to be beaten,
the headmistress issued us girls with a typed edict
that only "Nurse, one-button shoes" (now called
'Mary-Janes' on the web) would be permitted
thereafter. Their secure instep straps finally put
paid to all sprogging and flip-flopping. So boring!
The only remaining interest after that was the French
mistress's forays into ever higher heels and backless
styles. Sorry heel-lovers, I've veered away from heels
for a bit,but I'd love to continue recounting my high
stiletto adventures if you aren't too bored by now.
Love to all, Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (4)
Posted by Lucy on May 24, 2003, 22:13:02

Hi All!, and don't worry Stu, writing these little
memories is a fun doddle compared with my daily
business paper-mountain. Yes, I should try to contact
the boys from my class.... isn't there some 'Find a
lost friend' computer programme??? Here's Episode 4:
By 1958 (I was now 14), I was feeling much more
accomplished in my 4" stilettos and spent whole
evenings and weekends in them without problems.
Between 14 and 15, I discovered that boys were
becoming hugely more interesting than girls! When out
shopping, Mummy noticed that I had increasingly been
half-closing my eyes whenever trying to see distant
objects. I told her that for some reason this made
them look a bit clearer, so Mummy bundled me across to
the opticians and I was diagnosed as becoming
short-sighted. He said I would have to wear glasses
all the time (were contact lenses even around in those
days?)and I had a little weep. Despite choosing the
most ultra-fashionable frames of the day - with
pointed upswept turquoise-coloured wings at the edges,
I convinced myself that everyone would dismiss me as a
frump from now on. Daddy had already asked me what I
wanted for my birthday, so to cheer myself up I lead
him over to Oliver's Shoeshop window and pointed to
the highest stiletto heels on display in the entire
town. The heel-height measured an illogical 4 3/8"
(much later I realised they were Continental 110mm
heels). The sleek, streamlined lines of those black
patent leather shoes and needle heels were utterly
deadly! Daddy was torn between feebly protesting that
'Mummy would object' and trying to hide his
ill-concealed excitement at seeing them being slipped
on to my young feet. I stood up and that first rush of
adrenaline at perching in heels came rushing back
again tenfold. These felt incredible! I felt that
extra vital bit of height really thrusting me up under
me all the time and the sense of feminine
precariousness was overwhelming. My size 5 feet were
rammed right up towards being verticle, but it was
HEAVENLY! In this daze, I hardly heard Daddy say
"We'll take them please; Happy birthday Loo!". I would
not be parted with them, and opted to wear them out of
the shop. However, they were MUCH more difficult to
walk in than the 4-inchers, I had to take much
shorter, more teetering steps. It didn't help that
flared, pleated skirts were out and tight, pencil
skirts were coming in. Naturally I was one of the
first in the town to wear the latter and this hobbled
my stride even more. I admitted to Daddy that I
couldn't manage the full walk home for the first time
in those heels, so he took me into a milk bar to
change down into my 4" heels. The town's milk and
coffee bars all had Juke boxes and were packed with
teddy boys with their drainpipe trousers and
brothel-creepers. They all loved watching me changing
between my two pairs of stilettos and I got lots of
thumbs-up and winks! The next Saturday night, my first
boyfriend Derek invited me to 'The flicks'(the
cinema)to see a new film starring Sophia Loren. She
played a poor, barefoot peasant girl in a remote
Italian coastal village. (Anyone remember this film
and it's title?)In one scene out on a rough track, she
unwraps a shoe box and puts on the most stunningly
high pair of brand-new stiletto heels. This
immediately got a thunderous roar of approval from the
dozens of teddy boys who always occupied the front
half downstairs. Derek was dead chuffed at this.
Immediately the lights went up at the end, he called
everyone's attention to my own stunning shoes, saying
they looked EXACTLY LIKE SOPHIA LOREN'S. In modern
parlance, our street-cred shot up a mile high, and
Derek was as proud as punch. The whole effect of those
killer shoes more than made up for me having to wear
glasses. The only thing was, I had to stand around
until we made sure that we were the last to leave the
cinema so that those countless admirers didn't notice
that as yet, I could hardly walk in them! 'Still', I
thought 'If Sophia Loren can succeed in mastering
them, then I'll jolly-well make sure that I do". Next
time, I'll tell you about attending special
high-heel-wearing-lessons. Love for now, Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (5)
Posted by Lucy on May 25, 2003, 21:20:23

Hi all!, Welcome Roger and thanks for adding your kind
comments to everybody else's! Episode 5: After wearing
them those gleaming new 4 3/8" stilettos, I always
placed them in pride-of-place on a low shelf that I
could see from my bed. Before going to sleep and again
after waking-up I would gaze at those awesome
needle-thin heels, hardly believing what a lucky
fifteen-year-old girl I was. They were MINE to walk in
whenever I wanted and wherever I wanted (except to
school.....humph!) One school lunchtime I unexpectedly
returned home to collect a geography book that I
needed, and sneaked a glance at my birthday-shoes
shelf. My heart missed a beat - THEY WERE
GONE!....STOLEN! But just then I heard the click,
click, click of stiletto heels from beneath my bedroom
window, and looking down in astonishment, I saw Mummy
and our cleaning-lady Dorothy (a petite, cheerful,
plump 30-year-old)taking it in turns to parade right
around our paved rear courtyard, holding their own
private shoe-fashion show featuring MY
highest-in-the-town heels! My first instinct was to
burst outdoors at them in a furious rage, but then I
quickly saw the funny side of it. Remembering the
almightly row that I got for 'Wearing Mummy's shoes'
outdoors without her permission, now the boot was on
the other foot (excuse the pun!). I decided to stay
very quiet and watch. It was actually rather sweet.
Mummy managed to walk superbly in my birthday
skyscrapers with Dorothy's eyes glued to every step.
Next came Dorothy's turn and this was a different
matter. None of us had ever seen her in ANY high heels
at all, and when she tried to walk in my stunners her
knees shot right forward and she tottered and wobbled
all around the courtyard with her arms stuck out
sideways for balance like a drunken trainee tightrope
walker. I feared that her wild, erratic heel-scraping
and clicking might disturb the neighbours, but
eventually she just about made it back to one of the
sun-chairs. At this point, I quietly quietly sneaked
out and back to the school, chuckling to myself all
the way. That evening, my beloved stilettos had
re-appeared back on their bedroom shelf, placed
exactly as always. No-one ever mentioned anything
about that courtyard episode, but Mummy must have shot
along to Olivers' Shoes soon afterwards, because she
appeared in an identical 4 3/8" pair to mine (except
for being navy blue), much to Daddy's badly-disguised
delight. As mine had done with me, they became Mummy's
favourites for a long time afterwards and we both
enjoyed going out in them and clicking along
side-by-side and getting countless admiring glances
(and a few very long stares!). The biggest surprise
occurred a fortnight after that secret fashion show,
when my parents and I spied Dorothy and her husband
also walking to the cinema. Her arms were again
flailing away like windmills because on her feet were
brand new black patent 4 3/8" stilettos. She had
chosen my exact model and colour! They pitched her
whole unpracticed body forwards, and she minced and
teetered the last 40 yards to the box office before
making a final lunge to grab the ticket counter for
much-needed support. Mind you, I shouldn't criticise
her inadequacies too much because I was soon to
discover that my own high-heel posture was much less
than perfect. At 16, I passed sufficient GCE 'O'level
exams to leave school (goodbye heel regulations!)and
enter business college. The town's Commercial Academy
For Ladies was only a short high-heel walk from our
home - great! It not only offered tuition in shorthand
and typewriting, but in everything else to prepare
ladies successfully to enter the world of business. We
tippy-tapped away on old-fashioned typewriters,
gradually speeding-up in time with music played over
loudspeakers. We also learned all the skills of
grooming (manicure, hair-styles, make-up etc.)
elocution (speech training), table etiquette, social
graces and office protocol. Early on in the course,
Miss Sheridan called me into her office and said that
if I insisted on turning-up every day in the highest
heels that the Academy had ever seen, then either I
must be trained in correct, elegant posture, or move
down to somewhat lower heels. 'Take a look at your
side-view in this full-length mirror Lucy - you're one
big zig-zag!' Sure enough, my extreme heel-height had
thrust my knees muck further forward than I had
realised, causing my thighs to zig-zag back from them,
my bum to stick out, and my shoulders and breasts to
become hunched forward. The lower-heel-option was
decidely OUT for me, so I accepted he offer to arrange
for me what were then called deportment (posture
improvement) classes. I loved these, because high
heels and smart suits with knee-length skirts were
positively encouraged as essential dress for the
successfulk career-woman. How times have changed! In
those days, high heels were never associated with
anything seedy or prostitution etc. They were
universally regarded as the height of elegance and
sophistication, worn by all smart ladies included the
most respected in society up to and including our
present Queen Elizabeth II (although her heels have
got lower and chunkier with advancing age). Later
prime minister Margaret Thatcher wore 4" stilettos and
the great concert violinist Heifitz advised his lady
pupils to perform their recitals in suitably high
heels. Our class of 10 girls was ordered to dress
accordingly, and it caused considerable amusement when
the two meekest student had to go out and buy higher
heels and slimmer skirts for the course! To train us
in correct posture, books were balanced on our heads
and we had to walk around in a stately procession with
our bodies, necks and heads erect. We did many
backs-to-the-wall exercises to try to get all parts of
our body to touch the wall in a dead-straight line,
and all the time wearing high heels. We trained in
'corridor walking' and 'office-entering'elegance where
we had to compensate for high heel-height with
increased ankle-depression and NOT by allowing the
knees to stick forward one whisker - that was the
cardinal sin! One day, Miss Sheridan took all 10 of us
up to a London fashion-modelling school to observe
their catwalk lessons. The models all had beautiful
deportment despite wearing even higher heels than we
had seen before ('London heels' we immediately called
them)and the celebrated 'Catwalk Flip'(conveniently
described just below on this message forum) had
obviously been instilled into all of the modelling
students who were using it with devastating effect. I
particularly loved that, but Miss Sheridan said 'That
impudent flip is only for models and show-biz types,
not for you business students of decorum!". Back again
at the Academy, we were trained in standing and
sitting properly with discreet elegance - hands
clasped and always the knees together and the
high-heeled feet together. Our weight was to be put on
one foot, whilst the other shoe had to be tilted so
that the high heel was exposed out to the side for
elegant effect(we were told that shoe shops always
displayed the outer side of every shoe). We were
firmly instructed NEVER INDULGE IN ANY SHOE-PLAY,
HEEL-WOBBLING or DANGLING during office hours as this
'Has been found to distract the gentlemen!'. All this
thorough training seems to have vanished today, but
the unparalleled elegance of that 1950s high-heeled
fashion (encapsulated in vintage photos like )
transformed all of us student and has certainly sttod
me in good stead throughout my business career and
social life, right up to the present day. Well, in
order not to bore you with ALL of my
high-heel-memories (I have hundreds), that just about
completes my "Girlhood in Heels" (unless you'd like to
hear about my "Adulthood in London Heels" sometime?).
All my love, Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (6)
Posted by Lucy on June 7, 2003, 23:55:43

Hi again to all who've kindly replied to my ongoing
story: Firefox, Lampwort, Eric, Erica, Roger, Henry
Johnson, Spikejam, Sinkem, Doug, Sam, Patience, Romu,
Sandra, Tom, Stu, Scuffy, Cheryl, Fred, Spikesfan,
Arno, and all other readers! Well, this instalment is
an interim between my childhood and adulthood: I take
up the story when I was still studying at Miss
Sheridan's Business Academy. I wore my 4 3/8" (110mm)
stiletto heels to the Academy every day without fail,
but I kept an eye on the gently changing fashions. In
the winter of 1960 purple coats came in - every girl
wanted a purple coat and brown stiletto heels. The
winklepicker toes were becoming sliced-off at the very
tip to give a little square toe, and a bar-strap came
in across the top of the instep, which to my eye took
away from the uninterrupted sweep of the leg and foot
down into the low-cut toe of the high-heeled shoe. I
stuck to wearing my classic pointed, unencumbered 4
3/8" courts! Also, the summer of that year was when I
first remember seeing very high cork wedge-heeled
backless shoes for the first time. I don't think we
knew the words 'mules' or 'slides' in those days. At
that time, none of them had platforms, but the highest
were 4" high. Ever the trend-setter, I rushed in to be
the first to be seen in these around the town's
outdoor (and only) swimming pool. However, I found
that I didn't enjoy wearing these as much as my
beloved stilettos, firstly because they weren't quite
as high, and secondly because the base of the cork
heel was about 1.5" wide and I realised how much I
missed the more thrilling and precarious 'wobbly' feel
of 1/4" stilettos. Also more than one of my boyfriends
commented that the stilettos looked infinitely more
alluring, so that settled it! Around that time, the
whole town started talking about a nearby scandal. The
local newsaper had reported that up on the top of Box
Hill, a local beauty spot, a policemen had found a
'suspicious' man sitting in a solitary car in the
Lookout's car park. Daddy read-out the article to
Mummy, reciting that the man was found wearing full
women's clothing, make-up and high heels. The
townsfolk gossipped about this for days afterwards,
and I was curious to note that his high heels seemed
to shock people much more than the clothing or the
make-up. "Disgraceful" and "Ought not to be allowed"
everyone was saying, but I remember feeling very sorry
for the man, thinking he had obviously been enjoying
his clothes and heel-wearing without doing any harm to
anybody, and I hoped he would not be too badly treated
after being discovered.
That autumn, I realised that I needed an additional
pair of very high heels myself. This was because my 4
3/8" stilettos had been inseparable from me, and if I
carried on wearing them every day they would soon be
worn right out. Also, I was no longer the only wearer
of the highest-heels-in-town. Mummy and Dorothy had
both bought the identical make (even though Dorothy
was hopeless in hers!)and quite a number of other
girls in the town were appearing in them, including
three other fellow students at our Academy. Mummy and
Daddy agreed to my request and said that I could
choose another pair of shoes as their Christmas
present to me. My mind had been going back again and
again to the 'London heels' worn by those modelling
students. I told my classmate Velma that in the
Christmas holidays I planned to go back up to London
to try and find a pair of those incredible shoes. She
immediately said that she had been dreaming of doing
exactly the same thing, so when term broke up we went
up on the train for a day's shoe-seeking. No sooner
had we alighted from the train in London than we were
almost put-off buying very high heels. Velma drew my
attention to the girl walking along the platform in
front of us. She was wearing a nice short
red-riding-hood coat, a nice knee-length black skirt
and striking fishnet stockings, but the SHOES! They
were black patent leather winklepicker courts with
stiletto heels over 4" high, but we'd never seen
anyone worse at wearing them. her knees were thrust so
far forward that she was almost bent double, and her
feet were leaning alarmingly outwards on her wildy
tilting stilettos making her look bowlegged. It was a
miracle that she managed to reach the end of the
platform without either heel falling right over
sideways. At that point she was met by what looked
like a kindly uncle and aunt. Uncle started proudly
looking his niece up and down, starting at the top,
and when Velma and I saw him suddenly spot Niece's
very-high-and-hopelessly-tilted-outwards heels, his
smiling face suddenly froze into a mixture of
astonishment and embarrassment and his eyes remained
popping out like organ-stops and rivited to the
extraordinary shoes in shocked fascination. The niece
had a very pretty, sweet face, but all she could do
was to carry on wilting there under his gaze, blushing
furiously in total embarrassment. Velma said 'If
that's the awful humiliation that wearing high
stilettos could bring to us, why don't we forget it
right now?' I said 'Not on your nelly!' and dragged
her firmly onwards. In advance, I had telephoned the
modelling college and asked where their models
obtained their wonderfully high heels. "Regent Shoes
of course, in Wardour Street" they said. A brief
taxi-ride later, I saw Regent Shoes for the first of
many, many times. It was situated directly opposite
the 'T' junction, facing into Gerrard Street (which
has later become London's 'Chinatown'). In the
left-hand window the first thing we saw was a placard
'LONDON'S HIGHEST HEELS!'. This was actually only a
gimmick - an ordinary court shoe with a 2 or 3 foot
long stiletto heel attached. Anyway it served to draw
attention to the shop's
vast display of the most amazing high heels. We
couldn't wait to enter! More soon, Love Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (7)
Posted by Lucy on June 8, 2003, 10:09:16

Thank you Patience for such a lovely and speedy
compliment! On we go: When Velma and I arrived at
London's celebrated Regent Shoes, our mouths dropped
open in wonderment. The large windows and the interior
displays consisted of the most dazzling selection of
high heeled shoes of every height, colour, style and
desciption. It was an Aladdin's cave beyond our widest
dreams and made the handful of shoe shops in our
country town look like total non-starters. We eagerly
clicked over the pavement and into the shop, trying
not to look too over-excited. We told the lady
assistant that we had come up from Surrey at the
recommendation of the modelling school. She had
already shot a practiced glance at our own shoes and
seemed quite impressed by the heel-heights that Velma
and I were already wearing. "Ah yes, she said, the
catwalk students' favourite model is our famous 'Alps'
with the 4 3/4" (120mm) heel". She took us over to an
entire display of 'Alps' in a whole range of different
colours, and in a choice of patent or ordinary
leather. The sheer feminine elegance of 'Alps' was
almost indescribable! The uppers were a plain classic
court (always my favourite style), very low-cut all
the way around from heel to toe. The toe was pointed
and the lines of the towering, needle-thin heelslooked
amazing - almost hypnotic. Our attempt at
sophisticated decorum totally collapsed - just looking
at these dream shoes started us giggling like silly
schoolgirls in sheer delight and excitement. We
couldn't wait to try them on, and within moments size
fives (UK) were brought out for me and size sixes for
Velma. Trying 'Alps' for the first time remains just
about the most memorable experience of my life.
Inserting each foot into those sleek masterpieces felt
like nothing else on earth. I was undergoing an
instant transformation into twenty times the woman!
Velma breathed an involuntary 'Oh my God!' and I
realised that she was being overwhelmed by the same
sensation. Simultaneously, holding on to the backs of
our chairs, we stood up in our respective pairs. The
thrill was electric! In fact this daily thrill has
never left me, but that first moment in that
heel-height remains very special to me. The difference
in sensation between 110mm and 120mm heels was
unbelievable! My insteps were thrust right up very
close to the vertical. My feet, ankles and legs took
on a whole new poise and every muscle in my body
tingled as my entire posture found itself rippling and
readjusting to those seriously high heels. Before we
tried walking around the shop carpet in them,
surprisingly Velma asked the assistant 'Do you have
anything even higher?'. I thought this was a rather
impertinent question, but the reply was 'Oh yes indeed
madam, our specialist range starts at 5" and goes
right upwards from there, but it is only available
from our special private room through there for our
esteemed connoisseurs'. I gazed longingly at the
curtained doorway leading off from the side of the
shop and vaguely wondered what one had to to do to
qualify as an 'esteemed connoisseur'. Just at that
very moment we saw one! A weedy little nervous man
with thinning hair came darting into the shop, jumped
out of his skin when he saw Velma and I looking at
him, and furtively disappeared through the curtain.
Moments later he reappeared clutching what looked like
a shoebox in a plain brown paper wrapping. Acting like
a cornered weasel, he edged towards the entrance and
fled into the street! We turned our attention back to
the stunning 'Alps' on our feet and gingerly tried
walking in them. It was like tackling a whole new
challenge and being in heaven at the same time. We
both felt so teetery on those heels that Velma even
got the jitters about buying them. They seemed very
expensive to us - about £9 a pair which was then most
of a week's wages for a lot of people. 'Nonsense' I
said 'Just look in that big mirror and see how they
transform us both'. Velma had to admit that they
looked fantastic and made us look fantastic too, so
despite a few ankle wobbles, we minced over to the
cash desk holding our purses. At that point another
'Esteemed connoisseur' entered the shop. This one was
large, confident, beaming and exuding cheerfulness to
everyone. Velma said later that he looked like a
professional comedian or entertainer. He wore a
shimmering green suit and a loud colourful tie. Velma
discreetly nodded down towards his shoes and they were
a shiny silver lace-up style with built-up heels about
3" or 4" high. Having greeted us all he plunged
through the curtain to the Inner Sanctum, and shortly
afterwards came out wearing a pair of large strappy
gold sandals with slimmer higher (5"?) heels. 'Great
shoes you're wearing girls' he said to us, raising up
his trouser-legs 'How do you like these?'. We were so
astonished and taken-aback that we could only feebly
mumble 'Very nice!' before he marched out and away
into the thronged street as bold as brass. I
immediately brought to mind the poor man up on Box
Hill and remember thinking that the London Police must
have been a lot more tolerant that the Surrey Police.
Thank goodness that everyone is becoming more
broadminded these days! Well, despite the unfamiliar
new height, we bravely decided to wear our new 'Alps'
(mine were black patent and Velma's were grey
leather)throughout the trip home, and we got back
tired, footsore but blissfully happy with our dream
shoes and unforgettable memories of our London
adventure. Velma asked me whether we dare wear our
'Alps' to the Academy in front of the formidable Miss
Sheridan, but my mind was already racing on to
thinking how exciting it would be to live and work in
central London! More soon! Love Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story #8

Posted by Lucy on June 14, 2003, 2:56:19

Hi again everyone! A special greeting to Puffer and
Laser who've just joined the ever-growing gang of
responders to my stories (now well over twenty of
you!). It's very heartening to me to know how much
interest has been aroused by my stories, and
'Yes'Patience, I certainly AM enjoying re-living all
these high heel highlights - it reminds me just how
much real enjoyment I've had from wearing high heels
over the years (and counting!). Thank you also to
Scuffy and Stu for their latest kind words. I'm
flattered that several of you have asked if the site's
moderators can save my entire story in Jenny's Stories
section. As an alternative, if you would like to keep
my episodes yourself(they will soon drop off the
bottom of this message-board to be lost for all time),
why not simply print them out on your printer, and
then assemble the set in a folder? Well, to resume the
story:
On the way back from Regent shoes and our wonderful
day in London, Velma and I kept on our fantastic new 4
3/4" stiletto-heeled 'Alps'all the way home. When we
walked from the taxi into Victoria Station, the guard
was about to blow his whistle for our Surrey train to
depart, so we had to run the last forty yards up the
platform. Our two pairs of steel heel-tips made a
tremendous clicking and clacking on the platform and
it seemed that every one of the countless people in
the station paused to stare in fascination at these
two seventeen-year-olds trying to run (very
awkwardly!)in their new ultra-high stilettos. Somehow
we just made it and tumbled into our compartment.
Opposite to Velma and me sat a little girl and her
mother. Throughout the journey, the girl couldn't take
her eyes off our rapier-thin high heels,and she talked
about them incessantly in a very loud, high-pitched
voice that demanded everyone's attention of all
dozen-or-so passengers in the compartment. "Mum, look
at those ever-such high heels those ladies are
wearing...How can they walk in them?...Why don't they
tip over? ....Will I have to wear those things when I
grow up?....You don't wear ones like that do you Mum!
.... Mum, are you going to tell those ladies their
shoes are very silly?....blah, blah, blather, blather,
bleh, bleh. By this time, everyone in the compartment
wass leaning forward to examine our 'silly' shoes in
the minutest detail. For the next few minutes we felt
utterly wretched, but when we got off at our town
station, a young man who had been in our compartment
cheered us up no end by saying shyly that the little
brat deserved a hefty smack in the teeth, and that our
'smashing' shoes were by far the best thing he had
seen in his entire life and he hoped we didn't mind
him telling us! Did we MIND? We were instantly
overjoyed and could have hugged him with glee. Leaving
London and our town station behind us, Velma and I
were now walking alone in empty streets for the first
time, on the final stretch to our homes. With no-one
looking, we then began really ENJOYING our new
ultra-high-heel walking experience to the full. We
giggled away as we tried first mincing little steps,
then great long strides (which proved impossible),
then doing deliberate exaggerated heel-wobbling (very
treacherous in that height) in a fun imitation of
Dorothy (Mummy's cleaning lady), until finally walking
the last quarter-mile both doing a fun 'Catwalk Flip'
of our stilettos to emulate those exotic models that
we had seen at the modelling school. It was all so
wonderful and exhilarating that neither of us noticed
the pressure-pain in our toes that had been building
up until we reached our homes. Of course, being brand
new shoes, I hadn't yet put the papier mache in the
shoes' pointed toes to stop my toes being rammed
forward into them! Velma's shoes were also a little
narrow for fer feet, so the next day packed the
toe-points of Velma's pair and mine, and showed her
the old shoe-repairers' trick of stuffing the interior
with fresh, moist potato peelings until the leather is
soft enough to be stretched by pressing it down on to
the rounded top of a broom-handle. Of course,these
days the potato peelings have been superseded by a
shoe-stretching aerosol spray-can.
As the commercial course went on, I became great
friends with Velma, and in the Easter holidays we
decided on a second trip to London. Velma had a new
London boyfriend Mick who was an attendant at one of
the big London art galleries. As we went
click-clicking in to visit him at work, he pointed to
a sign saying that stiletto heels must not damage the
maple-wood floor and that rubber heel-covers must be
fitted. Mick had a huge grin on his face as he offered
to fit them to our shoes, the rubber ferrules pushing
about an inch up over the stilleto heels. What we
didn't know was that he was a shameless practical
joker. He explained afterwards that he always got a
fantastic kick seeing a visiting ladies teetering
around the gallery on very high heels, and he could
not resist making their heels even higher by slyly
inserting a 1/2" dowel of wood into each heel cover
before pushing them on the the shoes. Teetery ladies
would teeter even more, being pitched even further
forward than usual, and we found ourselves struggling
round in the same way without realising what was
really happening! When Mick finally proudly told us
about his great prank, Velmas and I thought it was
hilarous and brilliant, but sadly a few weeks later
Mick got the sack because an American lady discovered
what Mick was doing and got him the sack! After that
he got a job in an Oxford Street shoe shop and had a
super time persuading wavering girls to live
dangerously and buy something nice and high!
More Soon! Love, Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (9)
Posted by Lucy on June 15, 2003, 11:55:03

Hi again everyone! Thank you Patience - you seem to be
winning the Lucy's-most-regular-responder prize! I
entirely agree with you that the majority of teenage
girls of today (constantly slouching-around in nothing
but jeans and the dreaded trainers) have simply no
idea what they are missing through having no sense of
GLAMOUR! My excitement of buying and wearing classic
outfits and lovely smart skirts and the the ultimate
thrill of putting-on and LIVING in a fabulous pair of
four-to-five inch high stiletto heels must be utterly
lost on all but a few of them. When I see groups of
about half-a-dozen girls shuffling and dragging
themselves along the pavement looking dejected, I feel
so sad when I think just how they would have looked in
'my day' with inspiring, stylish very feminine
clothes, click-click-clicking along in their high
stilettos with their heads held high with the
confidence that these wonderful outfits gave them all.
Such is 'Progress'!
Well, on with my story: I left you half-way through my
and Velma's second day-trip to London, during the
Easter holidays of our final year at the business
academy. After leaving Mick working at the art
gallery, we made our way (on foot this time!) to
Regent Shoes for our second visit, chuckling merrily
at Mick's make-everyone's-heels-half-an-inch higher
trick that he had just played on us and all the other
unsuspecting high-heeled ladies. With the summer
coming, Velma was looking for some high-heeled
sandals, and Mummy had given me some money with the
suggestion that I should get some 'everyday' shoes. As
we click-clicked up Charing Cross Road in our
inevitable 4 3/4" 'Alps', a mother-and-teenage
daughter sheepishly asked us 'Can you tell us where we
can find your style of shoes?'. We gaily said 'We're
going there ourselves, it's very close, come with us'
and jauntily started doing a bit of Catwalk Flipping
to emphasize our daringly high heels to them both
during the last few hundred yards. So this time four
of us descended on Regent Shoes, and for me entering
the door for the second time was just as exciting as
it had been at Christmas. Now all the summer stocks
had been added to the usual stunning all-year lines.
Velma soon uttered 'Eureka' because she found that a
summer version of 'Alps' had appeared, with the same
mesmerizing 120mm heel, but designed as a sexy sandal
with a single low toe-bar and a single thin slingback
strap. It was utterly summer-light and feminine!
Within seconds she had settled for a pair of size
sevens in a light caramel colour. Whilst this was
going on, I attended to the mother-and-daughter.
Without knowing which one needed shoes, I took them
over to the usual fabulous display of 'Alps' courts in
various colours and finishes. Their faces lit-up in
excitement and they were soon well into things with a
shop assistant. Just then another 'Esteemed Customer'
emerged through the curtain from the special private
appointments room. This time it was a woman! Her face,
under a straight fringe of the most jet-black hair had
the striking looks of ten Cleopatras, further
emphasized by jet-black mascara and eyebrow make-up
and the brightest red lipstick that Velma and I had
ever seen. Her knee-length skirt was in vertical
gold-mirror slats that sent flashes of light
eveywhere, and looking down at her
just-being-collected shoes, we couldn't believe it!
Like her skirt, they were also in a mirror-gold and
were higher-heeled courts than we have ever imagined
were wearable! Having at that time had no direct
experience of wearing anything more than 4 3/4", Velma
and I found it difficult to estimate the exact height,
but it must have been at least 6", maybe more! Anyway,
the shoe was lifted so far up-and-forward that the
incredibly high pencil heel was little more than an
inch behind the vertically arched sole of the shoe. We
were transfixed with fascination, waiting to see how
she would possibly manage on the paving stones when
she left the shop. In the event, all she did was to
teeter about within the shop to view herself in the
shop's big mirror beside us. She could only manage
this by taking the tiniest mincing steps imaginable,
but looked deliriously happy when she saw herself in
those amazing heels. The four of us 'ordinary' shop
customers became frozen in awe whilst this spectacle
took place, and only resumed shopping once
'Cleopatra-times-ten' had disappeared back into the
'Inner Sanctum'to pay for her new shoes to be wrapped.
Velma and I were then intrigued to see that both
mother AND daughter were busy trying the 'Alps'
courts, although they had come shopping in virtually
flat clumpers. Mother was doing pretty well in hers,
but daughter seemed totally inexperienced and began
heel-wobbling violently from the moment she tried
standing-up. Within a minute or two she burst into
floods of tears! We went over to show our concern, and
she wailed that she was 'Utterly useless' and that she
had 'Been looking foward to her first pair of high
heels for ages'. Mother said 'She's probably got weak
ankles', but Velma and I tried to cheer her up by
saying she out to start with some lower 3" or 3 1/2"
heels and work upwards. We couldn't suggest high
chunky heels because everything was purely stilettos
in those days. It ended up with Mother purchasing a
pair of 'Alps' for herself in dark bottle-green (they
looked great!) and daughter finding nothing as Regent
Shoes stocked less in the lower stuff than ordinary
high-street shoe shops. As they left, I often wondered
whether the daughter (we never did find out her name)
had ever graduated up to the very high heels she
longed to wear! I was the last to buy anything because
I couldn't summon any enthusiasm to try-on anything
that Mummy had called 'Everyday wear'. It suddenly hit
my that because I wore high stilettos the the Academy
every day, and out and about during weekends, that for
me high stilettos WERE 'everyday wear'. I though Velma
looked fantastic in her freshly-on 120mm stiletto
slingbacks, so I brazenly spent Mummy's money on an
identically-styled but white pair for myself, and
thought I'd worry about Mummy's wrath later on. That
afternoon, we stayed-on in London because Velma had
arranged for us to meet Mick after he finished work
for an early-evening meal together near Picadilly
Circus.We filled-in the time shopping for a few
summery tops and bits and pieces, whilst secretly
admiring our great new summer stiletto-heeled
slingbacks as they became reflected in all the shop
windows. The only problem was, as my feet started
snuggling further-down into the single toe-strap, my
slingbacks became looser and kept creeping-down my own
heels until they let go of my foot and I started
having to pause every fifty yards to pull them back up
again. After a while, Velma started having the same
problem, but neither pair had a buckle to be able to
shorten the strap, so our feet were stuck in fixed
sized straps that were becoming too big. By the time
we met Mick for dinner, we were having to stop and
pull-up the straps every few paces. Mick (a
self-confessed expert high-heel admirer) said he'd
noticed that upwards of 50% of girl's slingbacks ended
up getting trampled under their feet, freeing-up the
shoes to flip-flop away merrily. 'Much, much sexier
than trying to keep the straps in position' stated
Mick. Well, on the way from the restaurant, Mick came
with us to see us off on the train. Under his
knowledgeable gaze, we dutifully tried negotiating the
walk in our new stilettos with the slingback straps
now down and dedundant. Velma and I agreed that these
slingback versions had proved harder to control than
the normal closed-court 'Alps', and the absence of
anything to hold the heel made it even harder still.
However the positive side was that the constant
slap-slap-slapping sensation on the underside of our
feet felt very sensuous indeed, and we began to notice
that the spectacle of two girls both wearing
ultra-high clicky stilettos and both flapping along
with the heel-straps trodden-down was turning
infinitly more male (and some female!) heads than when
we had worn them conventionally when first leaving
Regent Shoes. We were rapidly learning that when it
comes to gently teasing the onlooker, buying ravishing
shoes is only part of the secret, and how you wear
them is the another! More soon, Love Lucy.

Spikes Fan

Lucy's Story (10)
Posted by Lucy on June 15, 2003, 23:31:52

Firstly a big 'Hi' to Mike, who has just tried to send
me a picture of a possible 'Alps' shoe (see his
message below)! Also my thanks to Spikesfan and Sinkem
who have been talking about saving all of my
instalments as one complete story. It's so nice to
know that my little reminiscences are being
appreciated by so many of you, and Patience, faithful
Patience, you needn't thank me for writing it all
down. It has been MORE than a pleasure doing so,
because now I've not only got my current and ongoing
high-heel-wearing to enjoy, but I've suddenly got all
these memories flooding back as I write, giving me the
double enjoyment of re-living all those hundreds of
fun moments! For the whole thing we've actually got to
thank FRED. It was Fred's message on this page
on 21st May (see below - it's about to drop-off the
bottom of the board and be lost) that first prompted
me into starting to go down Memory Lane in my high
stiletto heels and start writing about it. So for FRED
and everyone since, on with my story:
After that Easter Holiday, we started the final term
of our course at the business acadamy. Many of the
other girls were only finishing a one-year typing and
secretarial course, but I was completing the much more
comprehensive two-year course which also included
business and administration skills, embracing
elocution, deportment etc. of which I have spoken.
Miss Sheridan assembled the entire year for a pep talk
about our forthcoming exams, and also said that
because we would soon find ourselves attending job
interviews, the final term's training would include
classes on successfully attending interviews. In
these, great emphasis was placed on our dress and
presentation. Hair had to be immaculately styled,
nails manicured to perfection, makeup applied with
taste and great precision, clothes (preferably
skirt-suits) crisply styled and presented, and nylons
and high-heeled shoes being a 'must' ("Although for
perfect taste perhaps not quite as high as Lucy's and
Velma's!" added Miss Edwards, out tutor). For some
years after the Socond World War, it was impossible to
get nylon stockings in the British shops, but the
American soldiers still stationed in the U.K. would
bring over marvellous stockings from the U.S.A. By the
early 1960s, the American troops had more or less
gone, but the odd American businessman (or even black
marketeer!) could be prevailed upon to bring them
across for us. We cherished those nylons like
gold-dust, and dreaded laddering them which was a
major tragedy and caused more than a few tears! Before
putting-on our high heels, we would attach the nylons
to the little knobs on our suspenders with little
chrome-metal clips and then make sure that the black
seam down the back of each leg was dead straight. With
the silky feel of the nylon stockings on each foot,
slipping into our high stilettos became an
unforgettably slinky and sensuous sensation. When
first standing-up in them, I liked to heel-wobble each
shoe around for a few moments to snuggle my toes right
down into them and to get the measure of each stiletto
heel in relation to my foot and the point of balance.
Then I was 'ready' to walk in them. Miss Edwards would
check the straightness of our stocking-seams and would
examine our shoes for the slightest blemish or speck
of dirt. This was routinely followed by her request
for Velma and I to "Look for something just slightly
lower", but that was the one and only point raised on
the course that Velma and I declined to observe.
Nothing would have stopped us from our daily wearing
of our 4 3/4" 'Alps'! The final term was shooting by,
and one day after lessons the principal Miss Sheridan
asked me into her office. I thought I must be in for a
telling-off about something....maybe about starting to
wear over-high heels to the Academy(?). Although Miss
Sheridan was generally regarded as being something of
a formidable battleaxe by the students, she beamed at
me and said I had stood out to her throughout the
course as being one of the brightest and most
refreshing students that the Acadamy had ever had. She
praised my rapid progress and said I deserved to do
well in the coming examinations and tests. Then, quite
unexpectedly she displayed a side of herself that I
had never seen. She went all coy and embarrassed, and
blushing furiously she said that because of having to
keep up formal appearances as the principal, she had
never felt able to dress in an adventurous manner like
me or to have ever felt what it was like to wear
really tight skirts or really high heels like mine.
She blurted out 'Could you do me an awfully big favour
and let me try-on those wonderful shoes of yours just
for a few tiny seconds?'. I was totally taken aback,
but I managed to say 'But of COURSE!' and slipped-my
'Alps' and passed them to her. It has been one of the
saddest memories of my life that my size 5s(UK) were
far too small for Miss Sheridan's size 7 1/2 feet and
she could not squeeze into them at all. I would so
dearly have loved to see Miss Sheridan's reaction to
wearing REAL height for the very first time! Still, it
was a very valuable lesson to me that even behind the
sternest countenance a soft human heart can beat! I
have always hated sitting exams, so I'll rapidly move
past all that and on to the end-of-course Presentation
Ceremony. The Acadamy held it's prize-giving and
graduation day in the Town Hall. We all trooped-in
with our parents (by now Mummy had forgiven me for
spending the 'everyday shoes' money on my outrageous
white trampled-slingback ultra-high stilettos) and sat
down. After deep discussion, both Velma and I wore our
Alps 120mm courts to the ceremony. Velma and I both
passed with flying colours, in fact my marks were the
highest ever achieved for the course, at which I was
mightily relieved! When we were all seated in the
floor of the hall, Miss Sheridan lead the teaching
staff and Governors to their seats on the stage. Velma
and I nudged each other simultaneously as we both
spotted what Miss Sheridan was wearing. Never before
had anyone seen her in anything higher than a 1"
lace-up shoe, and suddenly her she was appearing on
Presentation Day wearing a gleaming pair of patent
leather 4" stiletto courts! I could swear that she
shot a quick little beam in my direction before
opening the proceedings. Although not as high as our
'Alps', she had really broken-out regarding footwear
and looked all the happier for it, and I felt that it
was mainly due to me! When Velma was called up for her
presentation, she mounted the steps and promptly
manage to get her 4 3/4" firmly stuck between two
floorboards on the platform. The whole assemblage went
into tucks of laughter and she had to leave the shoe
behind and receive her award bobbing up and down from
one heeled foot to one bare foot. Miss Sheridan joined
in the laughter and even had the guts to wave her own
newly stiletto-clad foot to the audience and say "Look
ladies and gentlemen, it could just as easily have
happened to me!". Soon afterwards I was called-up to
receive my award, and I made an exaggerated point of
circling around the bit of floor where Velma got
stuck. Miss Sheridan kindly told the audience that I
had achieved record marks an had "Breathed new life"
into the Acadamy. She said that in recogntion of this,
she was handing an extra little present to me that I
must not unwrap until I get home! Mummy and Daddy said
it was the "Proudest day of their lives", and all the
way home the three of us were burning with impatience
to see what was in Miss Sheridan's personal little
parcel to me. No sooner were we inside the house than
I tore-off the jolly wrapping, and inside was the most
georgeous piece of antique silverware in the shape of
a Victorian lady's high-heeled shoe. The high heel was
'waisted' Louis heel shape, the upper was in what is
now called an 'Oxford' style, and the hollow part for
the foor was filled with a pin cushion for sticking in
pins and needles. It is about 4 1/2" long and still
stands on my mantlepiece to this day as a highly
cherished possession. Miss Sheridan's accompanying
little handwritten note simply said "Thank you for
more than just being an outstanding Student!" More
Soon! Love Lucy.