Chez Spud

In my head, I have shapely lower legs, slender ankles and slim feet with long, delicate toes. They are a strong point, people compliment me on them, and skirts and strappy sandals are my friend.

In reality, I have calves on the chunky side, big thick ankles, chubby small feet and even chubbier, stubby toes. Believe me, this photo is very, very flattering.

This is deeply unfair because I NEED slim ankles and dainty feet for the vast collection of elegant designer shoes which I own (in my head). I love shoes, but not that many of them love me apart from Birkenstocks, Uggs, Clarks and other footwear loved by lentil weavers.

A ‘friend’ once told me I didn’t have ankles at all, just ‘folded over legs’, and no feet ‘just stumps’. So I killed her.

I inherited the stumps from my mother. She was even more self-conscious than me and, as a teenager, used to make my Dad and his friends walk ahead of her so they couldn’t see her big fat ankles.

Having shoes made for my wedding day was a particular low point. I had lovely shoes made to match my dress, made to my design, with beading to match my dress and – ahem – a very low heel so I didn’t completely swamp MrSpud who is on the little side. During my first fitting it became apparent I would need EXTRA LONG ANKLE STRAPS to accommodate my vastness, oh the shame.

So back to the cobbler they went who, I am sure, still dines out of the Tale of the Heffer With Folded Over Legs to this day.

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