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!

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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.