Monday: Lido Feet

This morning I dropped off the Earl at school, boarded a bus to Charlton Lido and went for a swim.  I've written more comprehensively about my love of water in one of my other blogs, The Geeky Duchess: http://thegeekyduchess.blogspot.co.uk/ but they don't receive the sheer amount of hits this blog does, probably because they don't contain scores of shots of my feet(!)  However, I can inform you that they're as well written, funny and indeed poignant as this one.  I was sitting on my favourtie seat on the bus, which regular readers will be aware is at the front of the top deck, so I was able to take this shot of the view from Shooters Hill:

For those not in the know or anyone leaving outside south-east London, Charlton Lido had been closed for years but it's recently re-opened, although loads of work is still taking place and there are cranes and diggers everywhere.  There are no indoor changing rooms either and the only toilets are temporary ones, however this doesn't distract from how lovely it is and how adorable it will be in future. 

As for the pool itself - well, it was a 50 metre heated one, which is great because my recollection of lidos in the past is that they haven't been heated and are bloody freezing as a result!  My swimming was rubbish though compared to the six or so other people in the pool, my favourite thing is to just enjoy the smell of the clorine and float around in the shallow end - sheer bliss.  I left feeling tingly and invigorated and yes, my red painted toes loved it too!

Saturday: Miss Kim's Mistress Workshop

Yes, you've read it right - I attended a Mistress Workshop today in Hackney and my word, it was fun.  I have learned a great deal and Miss Kim is an excellent teacher.  I am not going to betray any secrets, but let me tell you that I feel empowered that's for sure!  Probably the best bit of it was the thought that this kind of lifestyle isn't odd at all, it's very much something to be enjoyed with a whole dose of humour.  The ladies were all from varying backgrounds and I particularly enjoyed hearing about why they'd chosen to attend this workshop and how they would take the knowledge they'd gleaned forward into the next stages of their respective relationships and lives.  We, of course, discussed heel heights and my tallest pair is pictured below:

Hurrah, now all I need to do is learn to walk in them......it's all in the glutes apparently.  Wobble wobble wobble, clumping about the place isn't a particularly sexy attribute is it?

Friday: Haircut and My Birkenstock Gizeh Collection

Yes, it's the end of the week and do I have that Friday feeling?  Well, kind of - considering that I haven't worked on a Friday since 2007 they don't have such as significance for me as much as the majority of the working public, however I countered this by having my hair cut this morning and it's a pretty radical crop I can tell you.  As you may have gleaned from reading this blog on a regular basis I'm a person of extremes so there was a satisfying amount of hair on the floor of the hairdresser's and my head now feels much lighter as a result but I love it!  My barnet was really vexing me to be honest - all of that bleach and colour had killed the hair's condition and it felt like kindling to me, replete with a whole host of split ends (that's the hair condition, not the band who had a hit in the 1980s with I've Got You.  When I booked my next appointment for the 21st June I mentioned to the stylist that it was midsummer's day and therefore a whole host of druids would be getting naked on Stonehenge but he didn't know what I was talking about.  Actually that's happening a fair bit lately - I had coffee with somebody a fortnight or so ago and he looked at me with incredulity at some of the things I was coming out with.  Bizarre.

Shoes - right.  Well, yesterday's heatwave allowed me to don my patent white Birkenstock Gizehs and wear them to work, complete with a plaster to cover the scab caused by wearing my Birkie Dorian clogs over a week ago.  Here they are:

I have worn them in a bit last year so the have customized to my unique foot shape and as a result they're not rubbing my feet too badly at all, which was helpful as I went for a long walk in them yesterday.  Actually, I'm wearing them now whilst typing away, mmmm.

Here's a shot of my calves, just in case you're into that kind of thing - apologies if you're not.  I know that I'm a greedy soul but I keep looking on Amazon at the other colours available in this style and I'm impressed.  To date I have several pairs of gizehs nestling in the hallway shoe slick or sitting in their respective boxes on the top of the wardrobe, they are categorized as follows: white patent (as pictured), black patent, pink pearl and silver.  I really want to add plum patent and tango red patent to my collection, but that's really avaricious and they're not cheap, even on Amazon they retail between £34-40 per pair.  Oh to have a pay slave in my grasp....wishing and a hoping on that score.......  Hopefully tomorrow's Mistress Workshop will give me a few pointers to work with.

Monday: Sun, Silver Birkies and Good Conversations over Coffee

Well, I can heartily recommend the feeling of summer - it's amazing!  I had a lovely meeting with a friend in a cafe this morning and I do adore conversing with an interesting, amusing and intelligent person, it's a great break from my normal routine.  In fact, I may one day pen a blog entitled 'conversations over coffee', but saying that, I'd hope to be more discreet than to give away mine, and others' secrets via the medium of the interweb.

As soon as I returned home I jettisoned my sparkling silver Converse (which are hurting my feet!) went straight upstairs and pulled one of the pairs of new Birkenstocks which are sitting proudly in their boxes on top of my wardrobe, awaiting the time when they'd be released to the care of my peds.  I have taken the liberty of snapping them for your enjoyment:

I'd imagine that they'd rub by the end of the day so I'm taking my time to wear them in gently because as you can see, there's a huge red patch on my left foot.  I am rubbing my foot into the suede lining - mmm, new Birkies are adorable.

I am loving my red toes - I asked my esteemed husband, The Duke, if he'd paint them for me and he duly did.  Bright red is my favourite colour and I think it cheers up even the dullest of days.

Finally, this arrived today for me to pen a review of.  I hope it's as effective as it purports to be.  I will let you all know.  Hopefully it will be like an orbital sander for my feet....

Sunday: Today is (Officially) Pedicure Day...and the Sabbath....

Yep, you've read it correctly - today is pedicure day and once I've written a whole load of guff on my various blogs, completed my eBay sales and indeed checked my work email (urgh!) rest assured that I'll be duly removing the dark purple polish from my toenails and carrying out the detailed series of tasks which lead to beautiful peds.  For those who crave a visual image, here's some shots from an earlier session:

Oooh - look - bare feet in bath salts - urrggghhhh....

They're not great when they're not covered in polish are they?  Frankly, they're quite foul in my view.

Imperfections abound.

Anyway, that's enough self-deprecation for any Sunday afternoon, let alone this particular one, which coincides with Queen Elizabeth II's eighty-seventh birthday.  I'll bid you farewell if I may and finally, I do check my statistics pretty regularly and would love to know why a Russian porn site web address keeps appearing - it's not my view that the content or indeed pictures contained within this blog are suitable for such an audience and if you're reading via Google translation, go and jump in a lake* won't you?

* Preferably a freezing cold one.  Ditto to all of the people who vex me on a semi-regular basis.

Friday: No More Bending To Clean Your Feet?

Ugh, after a week off work battling a chest infection which has been rattling around my system for the last month or so, today was the first time I'd left the house since Monday.  I feel like I'm on 'power saver mode' if that makes any sense to anybody, but if it doesn't please let me explain: it's like I'm awake but there's some kind of mental barrier blocking everything else out, or failing that I'm running on less than 30% battery.  However, needs must and I had to do the school run and head towards the shopping centre to pick up a few bits, hence why I saw this lovely item on the shelves in the mighty BHS:

Ooh, just think I wouldn't have to bend to clean my feet any longer whilst I'm showering in the morning (it's very much a case of shower in the morning, bath in the evening in my book..)  I like the idea, of course I do, but it would be another thing which would gather mould in my household after a while, despite my best efforts of scrubbing it with a potentially toxic fumed combination of Cif, Bleach and Limescale remover.  I've no doubt that the bristles would caress my sore soles though, but as regular readers know, I tend to do all of my hard skin removal via the medium of an Addis bowl full of bath salts.

Finally: as part of a review program I participate in I've been gifted a Scholl pedicure unit to test.  Hurrah!  Once it arrives (assuming it's not lost/stolen in transit!) I'll write a bit of a blurb about it and maybe I'll run a feather down my heel, akin to the television advertising campaign for the product(!)

Monday: Transitional Footwear Issues

Hurrah - spring's finally sprung and as a result it's time to jettison the boots and head towards a more seasonal footwear trend, which in my case means my Birki Dorian clogs.  I placed them onto my feet sans socks this morning and duly did the school run (on foot, as usual - I don't drive) but my word, I wish I hadn't (that's worn the shoes, not taken the Earl to school as the latter's my legal responsibility as a parent.)  Eek!  Blisters galore once again from my winter-encased namby pamby feet, this happens every year and I never learn.

Once again, a sight for sore feet - there's a lot of vein action going on there too.

Here's a closer shot of my left foot - nice.  Yes, I do realise that I need to pedicure my toenails as they're looking a bit ratty and you'll be pleased to learn that bright red won the 'choose a nail colour' competition, so next Sunday I will be getting the big bowl out and doing the honours.  I purchased a new pair of toenail scissors and cracked heel cream from Superdrug the other day and assuming I haven't lost it in this confusing mess of a house, I'll be using them next weekend.  The heel cup of a Birkenstock footbed causes friction and results in dry skin by the way, combined with the toe ridge this means that I'm a slave to my pumice stone in the summer months....

Finally - I am currently reading Howard Jacobson's amusing Booker Prize winning novel The Finkler Question and noticed this amusing paragraph on page 10 of the paperback edition:

They had been sleeping together.  There was nothing else to do.  They coupled up on the gymnasium floor when no one turned up to their festival.  She wore Birkenstocks even during lovemaking.  He only realised he loved her when she sacked him.

If it were me I'd only advocate the wearing of Birkenstock Mayari during lovemaking as the two strap upper wouldn't be dislodged by undertaking positions such as the reverse cowgirl, wheelbarrow or indeed the coital alignment technique (Cat).

Friday: Sore feet, blisters and general miasma

Blimey - what a week that was and no, I'm not making reference to the 1960s satirical show starring Sir David Frost et al - it was just plain shoddy (my week: not the programme).  I have made it a rule not to write about my job in any of my blogs but I will say this - management please listen to me when I say that I am really uncomfortable doing something and try to see things from my point of view - reputation is everything (apparently) in this world, but a few sensible precautions are better in the longer run.  I would also like to thank the kind person who made time for me on Wednesday afternoon after I'd walked from the City of London to Docklands - it was a really nice thing to do and I really appreciate it - thank you.

That long, somewhat unexpected walk was the main reason why my feet are so darn sore now.  I was wearing my long black boots, pictured below:

They're years old now - I think I bought them back in 2005ish so they really should be jettisoned very soon because there's no padding left in the sole unit and you can really feel the unyielding pavement under the balls of the feet.  They're DUO knee length leather boots with a 2.5 inch heel and indeed are the first pair of long boots I ever purchased because I was much lardier in the last decade and as a result, couldn't zip a standard knee-high over my chubby calves.  I Googled this issue and found a company called Duo who offered calf size boots and best of all - they sold a size 43, which on their website is described as a 10, but we all know that it's a 9, don't we?  Suffice to say that I can zip up most standard boots now as my calves remain rather slender as a result of all of the walking I do, lady luck and regular massages.

So, add an old pair of boots + a weeping woman + a long unscheduled walk and what does that =?  Well, blisters to be frank and bad ones at that.  Pretty hideous painful ones, ouch!  Please see the picture below for more detail: 

That's a lovely blister on the side of the big toe isn't it?  Ditto the other ones on the bottom of my third and fourth toes respectively.

They're still swollen too, but to be fair, they'd just returned from a walk to the shops (I was there too, my feet didn't just fly off of the bottom of my legs and make a run for it....)

They then transferred to a pair of Betula flip flops, but there's quite a lot of vein action going on there, don't you think?  Finally, I decided that a Birkenstock sole was the only way to go and am now wearing my Dorian Clogs, which I've photographed before so you'll have to scroll back in the blog for full details of those. 

Monday (the very early hours of....) - insomnia, idiots and input

Bah - bloody sodding insomnia again - I really could do without this.

Anyway, if nothing else, it provides me with a platform for some right to reply, mainly at a complete berk called RS Taylor who emailed me earlier this evening via my search for a long-lost friend on Craigslist, which for me personally is a bit of an emotive subject anyway:

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Me: Sun, Apr 7 at 9:16PM

I am looking for my mate, end of.

Well done for swallowing a dictionary.

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RS Taylor - Sun, Apr 7 at 9:15PM

You're peddling a sexualised blog to the masses of redundant, repressed, sexually devious male internet users and you expect them to practice articulation in their responses to the progenitor of the site?

You'll be waiting a long time for that email, love. 

 

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Me - On Sun, Apr 7, 2013 at 8:34 PM, 
 

Thanks, but be a bit more articulate in your reply though!

---

From: RS Taylor 
To: Me
Sent: Sun, Apr 7, 2013 7:15:09 PM

I'd f**k your feet until my dick fell off. Cool blog. 

 

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From: Me
On Sun, Apr 7, 2013 at 7:44 PM,

Good, it's at nomeanfeetfortheduchess - Google it.

---

From: RS Taylor 

To: Me
Sent: Sun, Apr 7, 2013 6:37:13 PM

I'm not the dude but I'd love to read your foot blog. Lol.

 

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OK - right - so is it cool to insult me like this via the medium of the internet?  Well, the answer's no in my case.   Why the hell this bloke felt the need to contact me via a completely separate advert is beyond me - was he lonely?  Did he feel empowered by insulting a woman with the internet?  Did it make him feel like a man?  Whoopie do.  

All I will say is this: although some aspects of this blog could be seen as 'sexualised' in my opinion, I've always crafted it to work on multiple levels - i.e. people can read it/look at the pictures if they find feet aesthetically pleasing or a woman who suffers, as I do, from having big feet in a world populated by manufacturers/fashionistas who truly believe that fashion stops at a size 41.  I think, on the whole, that I've been able to achieve this goal.  Therefore, I'll say this - I like feedback, constructive or otherwise, but I won't be insulted.  If this kind of behaviour continues I'll have no option other than to make this blog 'author: read only' again and that would be a bit disappointing for a number of regular readers, wouldn't it?

Rant over: as you were.  

 

Post script - the term 'LOL' puts my teeth on edge in the same way fingers scraped across a blackboard does so take my advice, don't use it.

Sunday: Footsies (not of the 500 kind!)

Today I'm talking about footsies and by that I don't mean the Financial Times Share Index (a nice joke for all of you finance bods out there!) or indeed the naughty thing which ladies or indeed, gay men, do under a dinner table.  Actually, I'm not sure if I could do that as I'm not very nimble - perhaps I need to practice?  Talking about the FT, the strangest people seem to read it, well, they do at work anyway - there was once this rather Margaret Rutherfordesque posh woman at work who insisted on reading the pink paper instead of doing any actual work.  Also, The Duke has purchased the weekend edition at various times, but the magazine's contents have to be seen to believed - we don't all own ski lodges in Aspen you know!  I do, however, wear diamonds to my local greasy spoon on a semi-regular basis, but that's just me, I like excessive formality at all times, as regular readers are probably aware.

So, herewith a picture of me wearing the nylon hosiery product popularly known as 'footsies' - M&S used to sell two sizes: 3-5 and 6-8 and I, for one, am glad that they did because any 'one size fits all' is actually a fallacy as it never fits me, but the larger size tends to hold up well.  So, what's the point of them huh?  Well, they're to stop shoes chafing, slipping and generally causing blisters during the summer months.  Although they're supposed to be invisible, they rarely are, but there you go.  They also have a nasty habit of 'pinging off' when I'm walking to the station, which causes the bloody things to ruck up under the arch of my foot.  Hence, why I don't tend to wear them a great deal.

I have also pictured them without the benefit of a foot changing their shape.  I think that they're a cousin of the wonderful pop sock - for the uninitiated they are a nylon knee length sock-like thing which means that you can wear a pair of formal shoes with trousers without the need for a full length pair of tights (pantyhose for the benefit of my American readership...)  There are also things called 'trouser socks' which are basically an ankle sock version of the same.  I seem to recall one of my relatives wearing a pair of pop socks and a skirt which barely covered the tops, thus revealing hairy legs - bleeurrghh!  Apologies, I really shouldn't be writing this as it's every woman's right to remove as much, or indeed as little hair as possible, but I don't really like the feel of hairy legs, but that's my personal preference. 

Actually, when we're on the subject of all things nylon - I was watching the peerless Sexcetera on one of the Sky channels the other day and there was a special report about the tights/pantyhose fetish which a huge number of men across the globe seem to share.  Apparently there's a studio in the US which only produces such content for the DVD market, fair enough - it seems harmless enough and you know me, I don't judge.

Friday evening: a guest blog from my friend, Miss K

Good evening, welcome to my post meridian blog, written by me after a couple, or should I say, quite a few glasses of wine.  I am visiting my friend, whom, for the purposes of this blog, I shall call 'Miss K'.  Miss K and I have been friends for quite a few years now and I have noticed that she has rather adorable feet. Unlike me, Miss K, has a perfect size 6 with long toes and rather a splendid collection of heels, of which she's justifiability proud.  I have taken the liberty of snapping Miss K's amazing tootsies for your enjoyment.

As you can see, Miss K's feet are a little swollen.  This is because she adores the feeling of high heels in her job, but of course, they cause swelling at the end of the day and there's nothing she enjoys more than soaking her feet in a bowl of warm water and mineral salts to relieve them.

Miss K is modelling her four inch plum suede heels of which she's a huge fan.  I must admit, that I, The Duchess, have often coveted Miss K's shoe size and indeed her sense of style, which I can never match up to.  She also tells me, woman to woman, that she adores the feeling of nylon tights and stockings on her shapely legs.  I don't blame her, I like it too, it's adorable, so soft, so shiny and so tactile.  Enjoy!

Friday: Next patent bow ballerina woes

Now, everybody who reads this blog undoubtedly knows that I own far too many pairs of shoes and it's now getting very difficult to keep the house tidy because of this.  A former colleague once told me a story about a friend of his who had converted all of the stairs into shoe storage by fitting drawers on the front, but if you, like me, think that that sounds really dangerous, you'd probably be right.  This was also the bloke who talked about a friend of his who was visiting Switzerland on business when a guy offered to buy the tights she was wearing at the time.  Very strange indeed - that's never happened to me on the tube.

I purchased these lovely Next maroon patent ballerinas from one of their online sales and I adore them; the problem is that they're far too small, which is such a shame.  I have tried stretching them in the past via the medium of one of those wooden things which are available from all good stockists, including Betterware, but to no avail.  Therefore they've been languishing in my locker at work for ages, but I've not been able to wear them for long because the freaky second toe on my left foot keeps hitting the end causing no end of discomfort, so yesterday I brought them home to hopefully sell them on eBay at some point.

Why do you like them so much then?  Well, as regular readers are more than aware, I love the look, feel and general lustre of patent leather.  I think this dates back to childhood when I used to covet other girls' shoes which were always nicer than mine.  I'm not sure whether this is an urban myth, or I've written about this before, but I seem to recall hearing about some schools banning patent leather shoes because apparently 'your underwear can be reflected in the shine' - really?

When I did wear these shoes I used to team them with skinny jeans and a blazer because I really like that look.  Kate Moss often sports it, but please let me tell you, here and now, that's where the similarities end between me and Miss Moss/Mrs Hince (whatever she's called....) because I'm a whole lot lardier than the aforementioned supermodel, haven't bathed in champagne with Johnny Depp and I certainly haven't had Bryan Ferry play at my wedding.  Sorry to disappoint.

As you can see from the picture, they're 'sole revivers' which means that they've got squashy bits in the sole to aid comfort whilst wearing.  I do like this kind of thing and notice that Clarks use a similar technology which they've dubbed 'Softwear'.  However, in the long run I guess it gets too squashed and becomes a little redundant - a bit like the latex layer of a Birkenstock which moulds to the exact shape of your foot.  Ooh, the mention of latex has got me all hot and bothered under the collar (spiked!), although I don't like the thought of having to oil myself up to be able to wear it.  Give me a bit of leather and lace any day....

Wednesday: heeled hypothesis

Guess, what?  The Duchess is still trying to decide which pair of cheap high heeled shoes to purchase.  Why on earth is that, you may ask?  Shouldn't you pay £30 extra for a nice pair of Clarks and be done with it and what's wrong with a mid heel - i.e. 3 inch elevation?  Well, as you know, I'm a person of extremes and have to deal with that on at least a daily basis. 

Right, so it was off to New Look again this morning to have a mosey around - unfortunately, being the school holidays, I had the Earl in tow, so I couldn't spend too long stomping around the shop floor before he started getting distracted and began speaking to his reflection in the mirror (he also addresses shop mannequins like they're real people: ergo, he's a bit odd).  My size, which everybody who reads this blog reads is a 9/43 is seemingly only available in wide fit, which I think slightly bizarre because I've got long, but not particularly wide feet.  Therefore, please find attached pics of the maroon pair which retailed at £15, as shown on the shelf, or indeed £19.99 as priced on the bottom of the shoe.

As you can see, they have a 4-5 inch stiletto heel and a small platform.  I can walk in them, but I wobble a bit, as I tend to whilst wearing thin heeled footwear.  Being wide fit I do feel like my foot is rattling around quite a bit in them and if they're teamed with nylon tights of any kind, I reckon they'll slip straight off.  The stilletto point is also quite narrow and I imagine it's probably holding the same equivalent mass of an elephant standing on a needle.

So, onto the other pair, in faux scarlet red suede microfibre which retailed at £19.99.  They are my personal favourite of the two different pairs pictured, as the heels are slightly wider, hence less 'wobbling', but once again, they're too wide as the pictures show - and would probably slip off and cause corns, blisters and most likely, bunions.  This does worry me because I have had loads of issues with ill-fitting shoes in the past cutting my feet terribly.  I seem to recall a coach trip many moons ago that I wore a pair of Dolcis black leather sandals which actually cut into my feet causing severe discomfort and bleeding.  I do have to walk everywhere in life and therefore, cannot compromise the condition of my feet. 

Easter Monday: BBC Radio 4 - Foot Notes

For those not in the UK or indeed not around and listening to BBC Radio 4 on a Thursday morning, I thought I'd share details of this amazing programme with you which will expire in a couple of days, but here's a link anyway: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01rgm9s

For those not quick enough off of the mark, it's a great programme, hosted and written by the former editor of The Erotic Review, Rowan Pelling and explains her love of shoes through to anything foot and indeed footwear related.  Herewith my rough summary, which is pretty much expressed in order of how I recall it, despite the fact that I've just listened to it (goldfish have nothing on me....)

Most women like shoes and tend to own quite a few pairs.  Despite being merely a foot covering, the humble shoe has transformed the way we think about our feet, although we all seem to have pairs that we adore, despite them being too big/small/uncomfortable etc.  Red shoes denote passion, exuberance and sexual interest when worn by females, especially for dancing - the case in point is Hans Christian Andersen's The Red Shoes which was made famously into a classic film starring ballerina Moira Shearer.  Personally, I adore red shoes and can't get enough of them, so what does that say about me, huh?

Walking incorrectly in shoes can cause no end of problems from the mundane: corns, bunions etc, right through to serious conditions such as a foot ulcer which is exascerbated by other existing conditions such as Diabetes.  There are special courses devoted to teach students how to walk in heels and apparently the knack is utilising your bottom/gluteal muscles (hence the wiggle?)

There was also a mention of the shoe museum in Northampton which was the former base of the cobbling industry many moons ago.  Of course, the film Kinky Boots was set there and they interviewed the real life factory owner whose story inspired the film, but sadly, like many factories in Britain, his company has gone bust and he's now working as a firefighter.  I thought the idea of re-fashioning and indeed re-engineering a pair of heels to fit a 15 stone man with size 12 feet was fascinating and reminded me to re-rent the film.

Finally, Rowan Pelling mentioned her deep love of brogues and I do too, despite me not owning a pair.  I'm very keen on this pair from Clarks, especially in black patent leather.  Oh I love a bit of a shiny leather, I really do - perhaps I'm a bit kinky like that?