No Pain No Gain
Teenagers - you either love them or hate them. But it pays to remember we were all one once.
One of my first pair of hot high heels were acquired when I moved from St Peter's Primary School in Formby to the very grown -up Formby High School.
I was in desperate need of a new pair of shoes and so my mum, who was obviously paying for them, carted me off to Southport Town Centre to find a 'sensible' pair. Her words not mine.
We lived about a mile and a half from Formby Railway Station so off we set on foot on a bright Saturday morning.
My obsession with high heels hadn't started yet but I still had an eye for a fashionable pair - or so I thought. As soon as I laid eyes on them I knew they were it. Black patent leather with four inch heels, a T-bar, round toe and stitching.
Of course my mum wasn't keen. "They need to last" she told me. But I wasn't listening. I had them on my feet and I thought I looked the bees knees. Little did I know my mum had the ultimate weapon.
"Would you like them in a bag," the shop assistant asked. "No thanks," said my mum, "she's walking home in them!"
I can still feel the pain now as I hobbled the mile and a half home. At the time I thought what a cruel trick to play but I can see the point now.
But the tale doesn't quite end there. Mum had paid and she wasn't about to dish out for another pair so I ended up cutting off the T-bar as this was the part which hurt the most, and with a bit of subtle stitching around the toeline, they looked good as new.
Of course they still hurt like hell but I wasn't about to admit that was I?
My obsession with high heels hadn't started yet but I still had an eye for a fashionable pair - or so I thought. As soon as I laid eyes on them I knew they were it. Black patent leather with four inch heels, a T-bar, round toe and stitching.
Of course my mum wasn't keen. "They need to last" she told me. But I wasn't listening. I had them on my feet and I thought I looked the bees knees. Little did I know my mum had the ultimate weapon.
"Would you like them in a bag," the shop assistant asked. "No thanks," said my mum, "she's walking home in them!"
I can still feel the pain now as I hobbled the mile and a half home. At the time I thought what a cruel trick to play but I can see the point now.
But the tale doesn't quite end there. Mum had paid and she wasn't about to dish out for another pair so I ended up cutting off the T-bar as this was the part which hurt the most, and with a bit of subtle stitching around the toeline, they looked good as new.
Of course they still hurt like hell but I wasn't about to admit that was I?
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Jan True - The Trinity Mirror production head - but first and foremost she is a self confessed shoe fanatic.
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