Outing.

[FastFreddy2 282]

I have treated myself to the attendance of a performance by Ludovico Einaudi at the London Barbican Hall,

When I made >> this << post, I decided that if ever I got the chance to see him play live (despite the recording of an earlier concert being available on-line) I would endeavour to attend. Found out recently I'd missed a round of gigs during April this year.

My frustration was compounded by finding the impending gigs back at the Barbican, looked to be sold out by the time I'd found out about the second tour. Alternatively, I was faced with a 120 mile each way drive to Bournemouth to see him perform. Plus, the venue there is huge, so getting close enough to see the fella play might be impossible.

Not sure how it came about, but a handful of tickets became available with only a week to go before the performances. [Could these be 'returns'?] Anyhow, there's now a ticket waiting in the Box Office, LITERALLY with my name on it.

I mention this here, because I've also (finally) provided myself with the opportunity - I hope - to wear some court shoes out. Whilst the venue is essentially a public theatre, entry is by ticket only, so it's 'technically' a private venue. Photography should not be possible, and certainly publishing photo's taken in a private place without consent, could break privacy law. Yes, I done this, BUT I've always been careful to exclude the identity of the subject, usually the venue too, and I've never included any defamatory or unfavourable comment. [The one image I did publish with a less than generous remark about, the subject was sitting in a public place when the photo was taken - as luck would have it. ]

These court shoes will be ones I've not worn out before, so I may need to take a box of plasters with me. Given my recent experience of a stiletto heel getting graunched in a hole in the pavement, I'm hoping the walk from the car park is uneventful. The shoes cost me the princely sum of something like £10, so financially there will be no great loss, but they are lovely shoes despite their low monetary value.

Full report after the gig.

Edited August 2, 2013 by FastFreddy2

[hh4evr1 18]

What outfit are you going to wear with the shoes, casual or formal?

Do you wear court shoes out often? I thought you preferred boots for wearing in public.

[FastFreddy2 282]

Planning to wear a slightly flared (girls) dark blue jean, with a shirt if temperatures allow.

Haven't worn courts out for thirty years, and then only in clubs. (Though maybe to/from my parked car too, but that would have been in darkness.)

I'm hoping to keep the shoes on my feet while I'm out, and be 'brave' enough to keep them on. They have quite a pointy toe. I'll have a couple more pairs of shoes with me, just in case.

[hh4evr1 18]

How much of the shoes will be visible with the jeans?

If your feeling really brave turn the bottom of the jeans up to show the whole shoe.

[FastFreddy2 282]

How much of the shoes will be visible with the jeans?

Enough.

If your feeling really brave turn the bottom of the jeans up to show the whole shoe.

There really was no need. Very few people failed to notice them, and certainly, just about every staff member noticed. One or two staff I talked to, had spotted them before I had to have a conversation. When there was maybe only 10 staff left (total) as the place was closing up, and as many others in the whole venue, I twice had to walk from one end to the venue to the other, clip clopping past individuals. Me walking on a polished wood floor wearing 4½" stiletto courts, that I was struggling to keep on my feet.

Had a bit of a fiasco getting out of the car park, with no one around to help. Managed it in the end, but not without hearing the words "I'm just trying to do my job" from the security section. All ended well, but there was a moment or two when it didn't look that way.

Hopefully, full story and pictures to follow.

[shyguy 15]

Look forward to pics and story as always.

[euchrid 21]

Brief outing last night: a cinema trip to see Elysium.

Footwear= dorothy perkins black, 4" stiletto ankle boots. Worn under long jeans and no reactions noticed.

An obvious (to me) click-click heel-wearing sound in the car park but no sound within the carpeted cinema interior.

Went for a coffee afterwards, again with no one seeming to notice my (fairly well hidden) heels.

Great result all round and something that I shall definitely do again.

[FastFreddy2 282]

Good (short ) report, and great news about wearing heels in public.

Not looking for any spoilers, but might go see the same film. Any good?

[euchrid 21]

Good (short :P/>) report, and great news about wearing heels in public. B)/>

Not looking for any spoilers, but might go see the same film. Any good? :huh:/>

Not too bad. A bit thin on believability and no story or character depth whatsoever.

Loads of action and CGI eye-candy if that's your thing.

[FastFreddy2 282]

Not too bad. A bit thin on believability and no story or character depth whatsoever.

Loads of action and CGI eye-candy if that's your thing.

I would normally only go to the (expensive) cinema, to see a movie where expanse of scenery or inter-galactic furniture makes it worthwhile. Watching two fellas and a women walk around the streets of the UK or US can wait for DVD or the TV.

I've seen some trailers, and it looks promising, if not predictable. Sounds like it might be worth a visit.

[FastFreddy2 282]

The Outing (evening out) Part I.

Recap:

I had decided some time ago, if ever the opportunity arose to go see Ludovico Einaudi live, I would go. A chance enquiry found me with access to tickets but with only a week before the gigs. I'd asked Mrs Freddy if she was interested, and frankly, she'd rather do the ironing. Faced with going alone (never so much fun) I asked my 'sometime walking companion'. She was delighted to go, so I bought the tickets while they were still available. [All his UK gigs are Sold Out before the performances.]

Also, the added benefit of going with my friend and her new hip, was access to a Blue Badge, free parking (saving £5) but also allocated parking in a large space. I pre-booked that too.

Lastly, I have been waiting for the opportunity of going somewhere, I could possibly wear a court shoe. The theatre, distant cinema, or some other private do would be the only situations I might feel comfortable wearing a court shoe ... This fitted the bill.

The evening.

We travelled down into London by car arriving around 5.20pm. We parked on the street, avoiding double yellow lines (no parking allowed) by stopping at a conveniently empty Blue Badge space within sight (just) of the Barbican entrance.

Blue arrow indicates Stage School entrance. Rusty orange arrow, Barbican entrance.

There was a group of around 15 rowdy students gathered outside the School entrance.

I started the evening wearing >> these << which I've worn out before, but not anywhere so intimate. Once parked I put on my heels, and had a quick look for the restaurant I booked earlier. This involved a walk of around 200 yards up a road in broad (sunny) daylight, and back, past the students outside the Stage School. We walked up the opposite side of the street, and I was happy walking in these heels though it didn't stop one or two passers-by looked at my feet. I'll never meet them again, and I checked for rear facing cameras, none seen. What had obviously given the game away, was the sound of the heels. Usually I'm out in quite noisy environments, but not so along most of this street.

So restaurant found, we then walked back towards the car, and into the venue to see if we could collect our tickets. We were told "not until later", as we were still a bit early for ticket collections. With about 15 minutes to lose, we decided to have a walk around the venue to orientate ourselves. History suggests I get everywhere late, and knowing where to get into the auditorium might prove useful later on. Walking around, we found the entrance on what I knew was our floor, and stumbled past the in-house eatery on the way to the toilets. The food looked tempting ......

In the toilet, I had my first negative experience. I've mentioned before, these can be awkward places, and this one was. There was a black guy (early 20's) standing by the basin, I assumed washing his hands? I used the toilet, and left the cubicle to find this fella still at the sink. The whole room measured something like 15ft x 8ft max and was full of sanitary ware. Just him and me were standing at the 3 sinks, where he had been for a while already. He at the left sink, me having passed him and sink no.2 to get at sink no.3. I had my camera under my arm, which limited arm movement. I waived my hand under the tap outlet expecting water to be produced, and none came. I noticed the black rubber ball shape on the floor, and started pumping. HA! water. The chap two paces away, who I'm sure had not stopped watching me any time he could, now also started pumping his rubber ball. He made a sound like air being sucked through his teeth, which I believe is a cultural thing indicating annoyance. Not sure it was aimed at me (obviously wearing heels) or his needing help to understand how the taps worked? Anyway, hands washed, I left.

Back out in the open, I found my companion and we walked back through the eatery, which was surprisingly empty. I tried hard to keep my heel noise to a minimum, but I think my efforts were pretty pointless. We decided the food looked too good, and we could sit outside on a terrace. Sunshine, greenery, and fountains, all too good to give up for a hot restaurant. I phoned them and cancelled our reservation.

We ate what was a forgettable meal, but the surroundings were great. I should have taken a photo, but sadly I didn't. [Duh.]

Here are some from the web.

We needed to collect tickets, return to the car and move it inside to the main car park (a mistake - hindsight tells me) and get back into the refreshments area immediately outside the auditorium. I planned to change my shoes, and spend the rest of the evening in a court shoe, so we had to return to the car.

First job then was to leave the security of my seat, and walk the whole way back to the front of the building via the booking counter, past a much busier venue than I'd seen perhaps 40 minutes before. Once away from the hard Food Hall floor, I was back onto carpet and a much quieter walk.

We to the Booking Office and collected out tickets. It was at this point, we should have been advised about the car park arrangements, but we weren't. If I remember, the tickets had been marked to include a parking reservation, but no-one passed us an exit pass. [i was later to find out I would need one to leave the car park I was minutes away from entering .....]

Once outside I was back to making some noise with my heels, but with the gaggle of students gone, we just walked straight back to the car without incident. It was a simple matter to drive further up the road and park inside one of the main Barbican car parks. Finding our "reserved" spot was easy, and the internal foyer entrance was only fifty yards away on our level. Once again the chance was missed to tell me how I should leave via a 'pass'. [i did ask.]

After some seemingly time-consuming mental deliberation, I changed into my courts. Apart from the security chap in his office 15ft from my parked car, the place seemed empty, desolate even? I left the car briefly to make sure I could walk comfortably in my shoes, before returning for my companion. This may have been the point I was told my shoes were obvious. .... Unhindered, we both walked away from the car down the small ramp that led us along the level concreted car park roadway to the foyer doors. These were perhaps 40 yards from the ramp, further back down the road we had just driven along before parking.

At the foyer entrance, the doors were pushed open, and we were quickly inside.

.............

Edited August 23, 2013 by FastFreddy2

[FastFreddy2 282]

Part II. 

 

 

As soon as we entered the foyer, I sensed I might be in trouble. Far from the gentle lighting and carpeted floors I'd been expecting, the vast and mostly empty hall was brightly lit with a hard wooden floor. Just about every step I took, seemed to echo back from every direction. 

 

Looking for somewhere to escape the sound of my own footsteps, we did a 180 degree turn and headed back to the bar, situated between the entrance and exit wall. Standing quietly for a minute or two waiting for our coffee (missed after our early dinner), I surveyed the place looking for some refuge. I immediately noticed a couple sitting on a soft bench seat not far from us, with the man turning around more often than seemed natural. Doubts about the wisdom of wearing a stiletto began to invade.

 

The Bar. To the left is the 'official' entrance, to the right, the doors marked 'exit'.

 

On the far side of the bar, there were some empty, and comfortable looking seats. Given they were at the back of the foyer, most foot traffic would be walking past with their back to us as they passed, so these seats were chosen as our waiting position. We had the better part of 30 minutes before the performance started.

 

Seated view. Immediately to our the left, the 'exit' (used by those in the know as a second entrance. Opposite the doorway, the stairway down to a car park, or up to the circle seating area. We were positioned at the far end of the Bar (to the right on the first picture). The theatre entrance, is to the right of the view, on the far side.

 

 

We'd quite a good view, though while sitting, my shoes were just about in plain sight. One drawback of our position, was being right next to entrance to the Bar and a staff room. While few people looked back at us as they passed, at least two staff walked to and past my shoes a good number of times. One young lady (someone I would speak to later) had a very good look at my shoes, and gave me a smile as she passed walking toward the Bar. Enjoying my coffee, I began to acclimatise. 

 

After about 15 to 20 minutes, with coffee finished, we went into the theatre. There were more people about, so the foyer had become a little noisey, which helped my confidence level. Getting past the usher and down the stairway to our seat, was without incident. I finally found some slightly more subdued lighting, but it was far from dark. The hard (noisy) wooden floor was everywhere.

 

As the 7.30pm deadline approached, the theatre was still far from full, but I knew all the seats were sold. While the dress code seemed to be a bit mixed, my seated view wasn't totally unpleasant.

 

To the left.   To the right.

 

The performance started about 10 minutes late, and ushers were showing really late arrivals to their seats as soon as the first composition stopped and clapping started. (What's up with you people?    ) These distractions stopped pretty much after that.

 

The first leg of the performance was as good as expected. I was a little sad that Mrs Freddy was so reluctant to see the show, as I'm sure she could have enjoyed it, despite her reluctance. 

 

The view of the band from our seating position. A closer look.

 

I'd expected the opportunity to take more photo's, and better quality ones. But almost everyone there was on best behaviour. I only saw two 'proper' cameras, and both of these were SLR grade, with no bright (distracting) screens. Had I realised it would be possible to get these in to the theatre, I might have been tempted to take my Lumix G5 with fast lens. (Ho-hum.) I did get a couple of photo's, but I had to pick my moments.   I think I only saw one person using a mobile with flash, during the whole two part performance!

 

 

The break seemed to arrive quite quickly. I had kept my fluid intake to a minimum, to ensure I didn't find myself needing the toilet during the performance. Not wishing to compromise that, it was decided we'd get an ice-cream rather than a drink. Probably smaller queue too. Walking a short distance back up the stairway, I was watched -with some intent- by a mother and her young daughter. Both looked at my shoes while they could, and then at me, when the seats hid my shoes from view. (I'd obviously been spotted on the way in.)

 

Outside, it was busy, thankfully. Busy = noisy. We got our tub of really nice (though expensive) ice cream. Looking around, I tried to do some shoe spotting:

 

This is a photo taken close to the Bar, to show what the foyer looked like at its busiest. Coincidently, notice the blonde haired girl on the left of the picture, she is the same girl who sat next to me. Nice wedges.

 

Interval shoes 1

 

Interval shoes 2

 

Interval shoes 3

 

Interval shoes 4

 

Interval shoes 5

 

Interval shoes 6

 

 

There was one girl there, with what looked like Louboutins, and a short white dress doing not much to hide her attractive/long legs. Don't know how she managed it (careful partner maybe), but was never very close to the larger crowd. 

 

 

 

Ice cream finished, we returned to our seats. This time walking down the stairs, only the mother watched me pass, her daughter distracted elsewhere. 

 

Once seated, we only had to wait a short while before the second part of the evening performance started. The tempo was raised, and it seemed everyone was having a good time.   There was an encore, then all too quickly the entertainment had finished. While I'm considered a 'bit careful' with money, I thought the performance was worth every penny spent, and worth every bit of effort to get us there to see it.   I would be happy to go again.

 

 

Mindful we had a bit of a journey to get back home, I waited for the toilets to become less busy, before using one. I saw some more styles of shoes while waiting.

 

Time to go 1.

 

Time to go 2.

 

Time to go 3.

 

 

Of course, I also wanted to get a picture of me there in heels too.      Which turned out to be a lot harder than you might think.  Even though the venue was fast becoming empty, people including staff of course, were moving about everywhere. The second photo taken as discreetly as I could, was done almost under the nose of two chatting coat-room staff, one of whom watched with interest. 

 

 

 

After the second photo was taken, one of around 6 attempts, I used the toilet and we left. The exit being right next to a toilet, and the car only 40-50 yards away, we were soon back at the car. Some people had walked around us as we made our way back, but the evening over, I was no longer concerned if anyone were to notice my footwear. And the chap with the wheeled overnight case that followed us along our route, would have been in no doubt about it at all. 

 

All that remained, was to leave the car park, and take a diversion home via the West End if it remained warm.

 

 

 

As I sat in the car, I could little notion of the disasters that were about to unfold, to complete the evening. 

 

......

Edited September 16, 2013 by FastFreddy2

[hh4evr1 18]

Glad you enjoyed the evening and the heel wearing.

Would you wear stilettos there again, knowing about the haard floor etc.

What were the disasters? Hope you didn't damage your shoes

[FastFreddy2 282]

Would you wear stilettos there again, knowing about the haard floor etc.

 

 

Now that, my dear boy, is a very good question. 

[hh4evr1 18]

With those trousers the shoes are hidden enough to look like boots.

Edited September 17, 2013 by hh4evr1

[FastFreddy2 282]

With those trousers the shoes are hidden enough to look like boots.

 

Hidden, right up until I take a step forward ....... They have quite a point, and are not silent when in motion.

 

When standing still, the top half of the toe box is on show.

 

When walking, all the toe box plus about an inch of skin is shown. 

 

 

So when I'm walking, they are easily recognised. In a confined space, people have plenty of time to notice and have a second or third look. I have not fooled myself into thinking they were discreet, nor ignored. Folk weren't standing and staring, but the shoes got noticed by enough people for me to be sure, they weren't that well disguised. 

Edited September 18, 2013 by FastFreddy2

[FastFreddy2 282]

Part III. (Disaster A.)

 

 

So we are back at the car. I'm sat in a space that's been reserved, because I have a Blue Badge holder with me. It also means, I get free parking, and given the expense of the evening (60 mile round trip by car, food, drinks, tickets) any saving is very welcome.

 

I'm still in my stiletto courts, despite being parked only about 4 or 5 metres from the security chap looking after the car parks, sat in his office studiously reading a paper watching the CCTV monitors.... We drive to the barrier, and I speak to the chap I've just watched in his office. I bleep the 'help' button, and say I've got free parking. "No problem" he says, use the free pass I was given earlier to get out. "I didn't get a free pass" I reply. "Well you should have been given one when you collected your tickets", I'm told.

 

My reply was, that I had no 'exit' ticket, and what was I to do? The answer was to go to the coat-room check-in, and get the pass I should have been given earlier. 

 

Now given I had spoken to someone at the theatre earlier -twice- about this space and my entitlement, I had also spoken (possibly to the same guy) when I arrived about 'free parking', plus the tickets and parking space were booked as a single item, I'm not overly happy I've got a problem. I drive back to my original parking space.

 

The coat room is possibly 50+20 yards away. Not that I feel the need to walk further in high heeled courts, I decide to keep them on. (Mistake.) Parked, I leave the car and walk back into the fairly empty foyer, past some dawdlers toward what I find is an empty and barren coat room. Having heard voices from behind the closed Bar as I passed it on the way to the coat room, I go back and knock on the locked entrance door. Who should answer, but the girl that had noticed my shoes and smiled, earlier.  I explain the situation, and she says I need to go up to the ticket counter. This is (technically) up one floor, but is at the far side of the building from where I am. It's up two flights of stairs, and along a fairly long (carpeted) walkway. At this time I realise my phone is in the car, but this journey shouldn't take long, so I start walking.

 

I'm in heels, walking across a hard wooden floor, with about 15-20 people milling around including staff. I doubt anyone missed the sound. Up the stairs, almost losing my shoes on every step. More people, but carpet so I'm attracting less attention. I get to the ticket counter - empty. So I walk back to the Bar. Carpet, stairs, noisy flooring. Fewer people still, but I'm almost parading now. Worse, I'm starting to notice I might be getting a blister on my left foot. Trying to walk fast (it's getting late) isn't helping.

 

At the Bar door, I knock again. Same girl opens the door, I explain the ticket counter was unmanned too. Realising I'm getting desperate, she radio's for the Duty Manager. He's "elsewhere", so I'm told I need to go to the front door, to get a pass from the security chap there. I know where that is, as I only just walked most of the way there ....   so I thank the girl and get walking.

 

Back across the noisy floor. Up two flights of stars. Along the carpeted walkway. THEN out to an upper foyer, around a corner, up a rise, and finally to the main security office. I'm now close to the entrance of the car park, one floor up and about 150 yards from my car - if I'm daft enough to walk down the steep concreted ramp into the building.

 

I explain my problem to the chappy. Okay says he, no problem, where is the Blue Badge holder? In the car, says I. Do you have the Blue Badge? In the car, with the Blue Badge holder, says I. Do you have the ticket for your time in the theatre this evening? In the car with everything else, says I. And it's about now, I'm telling the chappie this is going a long way to blight my evening, and can't he just ask the people who told me to come see him, about the exit pass? Which he then does. With him then agreeing to provide the pass, he wants all my personal details. I offer him some, which I think is enough. "I'm only doing my job", says he, and I mention I'm here in front of him, through no fault of my own either!

 

So he gives me the ticket, and says "I hope you don't have the same problem next visit". I assure him, there'll be no next visit, and tell him I'll be back in 5 minutes with the Blue Badge holder. "Oh, no need" he says ....

 

I begin my long walk back. Down toward the ticket office, past it, then along the carpeted floor to the top of the stars. By this time, I know I've got something of a problem with my left foot.   Down the stairs being careful not to kick my shoes off. Across the almost - but not quite - empty/wide theatre foyer, and finally to the exit door. Again.

 

50 yards later, I'm back at the car and my companion is standing next to it. The 20/25 minute wait sat in the car has not helped her new hip, (on top of the time sat in the theatre) and she is standing to ease the discomfort. She is also wondering if I got lost or had been involved in an accident somewhere?

 

We are quickly out of the building, and I drive to the front door with my companion. We take the tickets, and the Blue Badge to the security office. I introduce my companion, and I show both theatre tickets and Blue Badge to him. He insists showing him wasn't necessary (and by this time, relief has put me in a better humour) and I say jokingly, "I didn't want you going home and having a sleepless night, worrying about giving away exit passes when you thought you shouldn't have?"  Everyone is in a better frame of mind, we leave and drive away.

 

 

We decide the night is still young, and as it's warm, we head off toward the West End. The plan is to have a coffee out, before heading home.

 

En route, my left foot is (finally) causing me some pain, so I pull over to have a look. 

 

This is the result of all the unplanned extra walking, not just in new shoes, but me without any hose on my feet to prevent chaffing. This picture was taken a couple of days into the healing process, of a wound that took nearly two weeks to fully heal. 

 

Thankfully I had a third set of footwear in the car, some high block heels from ASOS. No need to worry about heels-down-cracks with those. 

 

 

 

We set off again, resuming the short journey westward.

Edited September 18, 2013 by FastFreddy2

[miltboot 2]

Ouch.

[shyguy 15]

Definitely "ouch". I guess that's the lows of wearing high heels, especially when it's all going wrong.

[FastFreddy2 282]

Ouch.

 

 

Definitely "ouch". I guess that's the lows of wearing high heels, especially when it's all going wrong.

 

 

Mmmmm.

 

It didn't feel as bad as it might look. I have to say, it was a hole that didn't want to heal quickly, because of its position on my foot. eg. On the bit that bends with every step.

 

In both my heeling life, and my wearing-men's-shoes life, I almost never wear anything on my feet without a sock or some hose protecting my skin. I have some jellies, and some 'proper' walking sandals I might wear naked while on holiday, and that's it. This was the very first time I have worn heels with naked feet. Mrs Freddy does it all the time though, even when wearing boots? 

 

From a fella who should know (has shop) I'm told double socks (double hose) should prevent all chaffing turning into blisters, and is the basis for the design of the "1000 Mile Socks" brand. Consequently, I often wear two pairs of ankle hose, in high heeled boots that are snug. (My preferred fit.)

 

The SELECT shoes fitted like gloves for the first couple of hours, but all the (fast) walking may have heated my feet and warmed the shoes enough to allow movement. Certainly they were a struggle to keep them on later, and I don't remember that being a problem early on.

 

More detail about them in Part V - Epilogue. 

Edited September 18, 2013 by FastFreddy2

[FastFreddy2 282]

Part IV. (Disaster B.)   

 

 

Of course reading this, you will already know there's a kick to the tale.  Had I known too  ..... 

 

 

The West End of London on a warm Friday evening, means the place is busy, and I mean at least as busy as it is during the day. In some places, Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus for example, even busier. This was a warm Friday evening .....

 

It took a little while to park, but I found a space. Thought there was an unusually large police presence, until I realised I'd parked almost in front of a police station.     Having put on my ASOS heels, we began walking toward Leicester Square, and a couple of cafés we know and like.

 

The walk started quite promisingly, for me at least.  

 

Reaching the junction of Charing Cross Road and Cranbourn Street, we crossed to Leicester Square. It was almost a fight to cross, as traffic lights produced a road filled with vehicles, and slow moving hordes of revellers having to squeeze between them. 

 

Our first preferred café was busy and ready to burst. Disappointed, but increasingly unsurprised, we moved on. Not that we wanted to hurry anyway, but moving through the throng of people wasn't easy. I missed several opportunities to photograph well-dressed well-heeled women, but I did get one or two of them.

 

 

When we reached the other side of the Square, closer to Piccadilly Circus, the noise from traffic moving down toward the Haymarket seemed to increase enormously. Eventually, the traffic and the difficulty negotiating groups of people oblivious to fellow pedestrians, made walking any further extremely unattractive. We decided to turn back. We'd walked perhaps a half a mile from the car, but it had been a noisy and fairly unpleasant journey, despite the balmy evening. 

 

Just a we turned around, I was sure I could feel rain landing on me? None was expected as far as I could remember, and the warm evening made rain seem unlikely. I guided my companion toward some shelter, just in case. As we arrived to stand under a canopy, 'the heavens opened', and I mean Class 1 monsoon grade water.  Us standing there in light summer clothing, a half a mile from the car ..... 

 

A few people walked past, mostly men, wet through from the tops of their head to mid-chest level. As I had a partial change of clothes in the car, it was starting to look like I might have to do the gentlemanly thing: Get half drowned retrieving the car, change, and come back for my companion? For a while, there seemed to be no let up at all.

 

It wasn't all bad news. 'The view' was pleasant. 

 

After what felt like at least 15 minutes, the monsoon seemed to subside a little, enough for one of the group under the shelter, to take a chance in the lighter rain .....   Barefoot.

 

As my view cleared  , another form of entertainment arrived. A man disguised as Lucifer? (Well, hopefully a man and not the real thing.  ) Red rubber from head to toe, with no other visible attire, except a red rubber hat with horns ..... And some red platform boots!!!

 

He didn't hang about for long, and as the rain began to subside further, we elected to risk it too. We began our walk back to the parked car, and with the pavements now awash, I was glad to be wearing boots. The air had cooled slightly, and the crowds had thinned, so our walk was brisker. We made better time with our return journey, but were a little damper than with our outbound walk.  If we had tried to make it back to the car without seeking shelter first, we both would have arrived at the car soaking wet. Our patience had paid off. Feeling a little relieved about staying dry (for the most part), we quit while we were still in front, and left London to go home.

 

Extracting ourselves from the immediate area by car was slow, and quite dangerous for a pedestrian who walked out suddenly in front of us.  We all lived (unscathed), to tell the tale.

 

The rest of the journey was uneventful, and I was thankful for it.    

Edited September 19, 2013 by FastFreddy2

[FastFreddy2 282]

 

The SELECT shoes fitted like gloves for the first couple of hours, but all the (fast) walking may have heated my feet and warmed the shoes enough to allow movement. Certainly they were a struggle to keep them on later, and I don't remember that being a problem early on.

 

More detail about them in Part V - Epilogue. 

 

 

 

Part V - Epilogue. (The Final Chapter.    )

 

 

I have mentioned it before, probably more than once, that I loved the style and fit of these SELECT court shoes. I'd owned them for a while (3-4 years maybe) but had never worn them out. As a general remark, I'd say I wear high heeled shoe boots and ankle boots, to the exclusion of every other style.

 

These shoes had been 'saved' for a special occasion, and a visit to a theatre qualified. There was a time I could wear hose (actually stockings at the time ), and keep a court shoe on my foot; but not any longer..... I HAD to wear them with naked feet, or risk kicking them off with every step. The flash of my lilly white skin -not seen the Sun for perhaps 4 years- was probably an unexpected highlight to anyone with their eyes open.  I wasn't going to do any parading, so wearing them was going to be an exciting challenge.

 

On the night, everything went well until the last. The shoes, and in them my feet, unexpectedly had to do significantly more than planned. Sadly, it would seem the quality of the shoe might not have been up to the job. One of the seams has a small protrusion, and it's right next to a highly mobile part of my foot. With the extended walk that was easily 4 times further than expected, what might have started as a blister, became a groove in my skin.

 

On the up side, skin heals, and mine did. But the shoes will not be worn again by me, and here is why:

 

Current condition of right shoe:

 

Current condition of left shoe:

 

 

So not only wasn't my foot up to the challenge (in these shoes) it rather looks like the shoes weren't up to it either?  Some will think, "What do you expect from a cheap shoe?" My answer might be something along the line of; "More than wearing them once probably." Uniquely for footwear, the uppers look more worn than the soles and heels.

 

Perhaps there was something wrong with the material, who knows. But these are destined for the charity shop now.

 

 

Not unusually for me, I have a second unused/new pair. At the moment I have no idea what to do with them. My choices are:

 

i) Keep them as a style guide to sourcing a better quality replacement.

ii) Sell them. (Might make £3 or £4.)

iii) Give them to a charity shop; 'as new' and let them get the £3 or £4 for them.

iv) Do option (i) followed by option (iii).

 

 

At the moment, option (iv) is winning. 

 

 

Would I wear a court shoe out again? Probably, but not to the Barbican.  

 

 

 

......

Edited September 22, 2013 by FastFreddy2

[hh4evr1 18]

Option iv is la good choice. Everyone wins