Jump to content

Lucy

Members
  • Content count

    113
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Community Reputation

1 Neutral

1 Follower

  1. Tom Ford, our man in heels

    Thanks! I'm impressed! Another flash of Firefox's genius. Or may not - maybe it just shows how little I know about anything! Cheers, Heelfan
  2. Replies For Lucy's Stories

    Keep working at it! Anita has sent me a couple of lovely friendly postings (despite last week's exposee) so her switch from the courtroom to full-time singing/comedy bodes well for her to consider some UK guest spots, I would have thought! Love, Lucy H. F.
  3. Nice shoes! Sorry for going temporily off-topic, E-J! Final farewells from this thread, Sincerely, Lucy (Heelfan).
  4. Replies For Lucy's Stories

    Just a quick posting to say that my Lucy's Stories are back! Chapters 54 and 55 are now posted on Jenny's Forum and duplicated here on this thread, Fondly yours, Lucy H.F.
  5. Posted by Lucy H. F. on October 29, 2004, 5:46:44 Hi Everyone, Heelfan calling! My introduction for Chapter 54 also serves for Chapter 55: CHAPTER 55 Passing through the gate of Windsor Castle, we entered an enormous courtyard and grounds. Many tourists thronged everywhere, including a coach-load of Japanese couples. Their flat shoes made me feel very self-concious and out-of-place in my ostentatious 6” heels, and in fact we found that more and more of the Japanese were noticing my shoes and even began clustering around to have a look! These days, nice smart skirts and high heels are extremely fashionable in Japan, but in the 1960s they must have been an almost unknown experience. The Japanese ladies gazed at my 6” heels with a mixture of interest, fascination and wonderment, whilst the gentlemen appeared to be either hypnotised or virtually beside themselves! They reminded me of the excited little group that had followed Velma, Madeline and me half-way round the British museum some months beforehand. Moments later, their coach driver started shepherding them out of the castle, and as they tore themselves away , they all gave me and Clarence a sea of grins and waves! “Come on Loo” said Clarence, “Let’s go inside”. To enter, we had to walk past a motionless guardsman resplendent in bearskin hat and red tunic. Although the royal guards are world famous for never moving a muscle, Clarence murmered to me that as I had click-click-clicked past , the guard’s eyes had not been able to resist following each of my tottering steps! For the next two or three hours we had a fascinating time exploring the countless and varied rooms, halls, towers and terraces of Windsor Castle. The interiors were superb. We were both captivated by the splendid oil paintings of Rubens, Holbein and Van Dyke. Clarence pointed-out that one of the huge Van Dyke’s depicted a bygone king wearing shoes with bright red high heels! By now, my feet were getting tired! Having my feet forced into such an unnaturally vertical position for several hours on end was stretching and straining all of the sinews around my instep, ankles and calves. However, I bravely carried on. There were countless ancient stone stairs to navigate. As any high-heeled lady will know, going up them was dead easy, one just used the toe-part of ones shoes, but coming back down was a nightmare! Descending stairs in high heels is difficult at the best of times. But not only was I wearing 6” heels but every step was worn into a slope from 900 years of use and this pitched my high-heeled shoes forward on every step. The opposite effect of the entrance ramp was now occurring, and I was terrified that my heels would throw me forwards down the stairs! Again, Clarence came to the rescue, this time walking down immediately in from of me so that I could put both hands on his shoulders. We must have looked like a most comical couple that day, and several people had a good old grin and chuckle at us! However, my shoes did get me one reward. Although Queen Elizabeth was in residence, a few of the state apartments were open to us visitors, but they had superb wooden floors. Just ahead of us were four London girls were just ahead of us all wearing stiletto heels. The custodian banned them from entering and spoiling the floor! However, when our turn came, Clarence pointed out that although higher, my “Betty Page” heels were not as thin as their stilettos and would not puncture the floors. “OK” agreed the man and waved us through, to the utter indignation of the four girls who stood and gaped as my skyscraper heels passed the inspection! In those days, the celebrated royal collection of drawings was housed in a stone-vaulted gallery underneath one of the terraces. Both being most interested in old masters, we avidly admired all the wonderful drawings by Leonardo Da Vinci, Holbein and other. Being familiar with many of them from books, we were surprised at how small many of them were, being often no bigger than the printed reproductions. But it was such a thrill to see them! Lastly, Clarence suggested a stroll around the terraces and battlements. By this time my 6” heels felt 12” high and the balls of my feet had started to scream, but so as not to spoil the magical day, I mustered a smile and said “That would be lovely”. Emerging on to the battlements, the view was stunning. Windsor Castle is on elevated ground like an island set in the middle of the flatness of Windsor Great Park and its wonderful trees. The view goes on for miles. Despite my agonising feet and wobbling on uneven flagstones, the lofty empowerment of those awesome shoes, the sheer grandeur of the castle, the breathtaking view and the romance of the setting sun all made me feel like the happiest girl in the universe! Our exit down the castle’s approach ramp was somewhat ignominious, with Clarence having to walk in front with me staggering along behind him repeating my hands-on-shoulders staircase routine, but we were almost the last people to leave so that there was no-one to laugh at us. “Straighten those knees” barked Clarence jokingly. “Have a heart!” I retorted, “You ought to try 6” heels sometime. It was difficult enough on the flat along Southampton quayside, let alone expecting me to descend from lofty castles like this!”. It was now dark and we realised we were getting hungry. With Clarence gripping my hand very tightly to support me, and going very slowly to accommodate me teetering progress, we walked a short way down the High Street (more downhill torture) and down into Peascot Street (more downhill torture!) where Clarence knew a nice restaurant. Half-way down, from the opposite pavement suddenly came the most almightly clatter sound. We looked across in alarm, but saw that it was a rather stunning teenage girl in a miniskirt, stockings and clattering along in extremly high steel-tipped stiletto heels with the slingback straps trampled down. She was accompanied by about seven youths of her own age, hero-worshipping her and following her like the tail of a comet. Clearly enjoying her star status (and obviously the local teenage heart-throb) she clattered this way and that, her steel-tipped heels making a loud but very provocative statement, and as we entered the restaurant all those lads were last seen slavishly following the noisy slingbacks everywhere. “Oh Lucy!” said Clarence as we settled into our restaurant chairs “What have I done to deserve such an amazing girl? And seeing you climbing all over that castle in your tight skirt and those 6” heels was mind-blowing! You’re a girl in a million!”. Was this the right time to tell Clarence that this had been the best day in my whole life?. No, better still, ignoring those around us, I leant over, put my arms around Clarence and gave him the longest and best kiss I’d ever given anyone. Love, Lucy H. F.
  6. No Lucy

    That's right - see Lucy get de-frocked! Love, Lucy
  7. Posted by Lucy H. F. on October 29, 2004, 5:33:41 CHAPTER 54 Hi from Heelfan! Chapter 53 finished with the words “Fools Rush in Where Angels Fear To Tread”, and how apt that was. Eighteen months ago, I rushed in and started writing the Lucy Stories, prompted by an innocent question from Fred, and never realising the full extent of the fan club that would emerge to follow her stories with a passion. Then a week ago I was suddenly unceremoniously unmasked and de-frocked (due to scattily signing a Lucy posting as “Heelfan”!) so here I am, feeling like a fool! Thank you to Fred and Sinkem for replying to Chapter 53, and to all of those who have replied and debated the issues of the unmasking of this cyberspace fraudster on Megaforums and on Jenny’s Forum: JeffM, Bubba136, DawnHH, hjt101, nhoj62, Ellen-Jay, Raincat, Paul (North-East), Jinxie Kat, Rand, Chris 100575, Anita C., Shyguy, TXT-1, Miko, Paul, Puffer, RPM, Erica, Stu, Allu and moderator Firefox. I fully deserved to be called a rotter and hounded off the boards, but to my amazement, the majority of you have been astonishingly forgiving and wish me to carry with Lucy’s Story! This shows what a wonderfully tolerant and kind bunch most heely people are! – Thank you so much! I think it helped when I said in all sincerity that ALL of the heel-wearing events in Lucy’s Story actually happened to real girls in my life, but that as I felt unable to name them all individually which would have invaded their privacy and made for very disjointed postings, I rolled them all into the one heroin “Lucy” and told it all in the first person. My suggestion of carrying on in that fashion (to give continuity to the book), but offering some explanatory background before each chapter has been met with heartening approval. So here we go, Chapter 54: INTRODUCTION Lucy’s Story began when I was about twelve, and first main “Lucy” was based on Mary, the girl who lived below us in our the ground floor flat in Dorking, Surrey and stole her mum’s brown 4” stilettos to attend the school dance, and progressed to bolder heely adventures. The second main “Lucy” was my girlfriend who attended the nearby (“Miss Sheridan’s) secretarial academy in wonderful high heels. That building is still there in Horsham Road, but now converted to residential use. The third main “Lucy” was the fantastic girl I spotted in Chapter 32, when playing the double bass in the Connaught Rooms, Piccadilly, and shot out to find her when the band finished. Soon after that, I became a ship’s musician on the “Queen Elizabeth” and spent several wonderful years sailing between Southampton and New York every two weeks, seeing countless lady passengers in incredible heels, and looking forward to re-uniting with my fantastic London girlfriend every two weeks, buying her ever-better high heels and dreaming-up exciting things to do during each leave. Which brings us to Chapter 54. London Airport was later re-named “Heathrow” to distinguish it from Gatwick and Stansted, and the “slingbacks girl” was admired by me when with my father in Windsor a few years previously: Chapter 54 I felt on top of the World! Clarence and I were speeding due Westwards from London in the borrowed sports car, with the wind rushing through our hair and the countryside flashing by. The Aston Martin’s engine surged like a wild tiger and I was almost delirious with happiness. I kept sliding my feet in and out of the “Betty Page” shoes (that Clarence kindly but firmly insisted that I wore that day) to remind myself of the incredibly sensuous steep feel created by those 6” heels. Finally, across the flat reaches of Windsor Great Park, the world famous bulk of Windsor Castle came into view. “But what’s happening?” I bellowed through the rushing slipstream into Clarence’s ear “You seem to be driving us past the Castle”. “Yes” yelled Clarence, “Hold on for another surprise before we hit Windsor!”. His expert hands spun the nippy car a few minutes further west and we soon found ourselves cruising into the car park at London Airport. “Don’t panic” said Clarence, “We’re not flying off anywhere! One of my old catering chums runs the VIP restaurant here. It’s the ideal place for lunch, and we can watch a few planes taking off and landing, but first, do you want to fix your face?”. I gingerly put my 6” heels to the ground (for only the second time in public) and headed for the nearest ladies’ room with the shoes restricting me to the only possible very short, teetering paces. I sensed Clarence’s eyes following my every step. “Oh dear!”, I exclaimed as I saw myself in the mirror. The open sports car had been very eye-watering, and I had black mascara all down my face! Fortunately, my handbag was always well equipped, but I had to work very hard to re-do the ‘plasterwork’, and finally accompanied Clarence up the stairs to the VIP restaurant. Clarence’s restaurant-manager friend Derek shot over all beams and smiles and said I simply had to try their speciality of lobster thermidor. I’d never tried lobster before, but washed down with Champagne it was heavenly! That one lunch made me a lobster addict for the rest of my life, but never have I tasted it so wonderfully prepared as it was on that unforgettable day! All too soon, we were back in the Aston Martin for the short run back to Windsor, this time with Clarence going more slowly so that the eye-watering gale became only a a gently breeze. We glided into the small historic town of Windsor, and with no double yellow lines to worry about in those days, Clarence managed to park near the mighty royal castle. “Ooh look!” said Clarence, pointing at a flagpole above the loftiest tower, “The royal standard is flying. I think that means than the Queen is in residence today!”. Again I lowered my 6” heels to the ground, and we made our way towards the impressive castle entrance. The approach road ascended quite steeply, and I began to panic because in my heels it was very hard not to fall over backwards! The extreme heel-height necessitated the heel bottoms being very close to the toe-box instead of being set much further back like a flat shoe. So steep was the entrance ramp that my body-weight was behind the rear of my heels. I grabbed Clarence’s arm like grim death to steady myself, and he immediately put a muscular arm behind my waist and supported me up the slope. “Thankyou!” I panted, “That could have been very nasty without your help”. “My pleasure!” beamed Clarence, appearing to enjoy the situation immensely. More following immediately, Love, Lucy H. F.
  8. Well, to try and ensure that you're all still friends, Heelfan would say that the very last thing he'd ever want to do is to discourage Ellen-Jay or any the rest of you excellent folks come to that - far from it. Xaphod is probably right that Heelfan gets over-enthusiastic at times and if that has inadvertantly caused the slightest offence, he cannot apologise enough! Love, Lucy
  9. Replies For Lucy's Stories

    Hi Dawn! Thanks for your very nice reply. I'm delighted that Mickey is gradually getting stronger, but I think she's bound to haver the odd bad day after such a major operation. Glad you like my latest chapter, and best wishes to you both! Lovy, Lucy. Hi Jeff! I see you haven't changed - still wanting more at the end of each chapter. Well, I'll do by best, that's all I can say! Thanks for the message. Love, Lucy
  10. No Lucy

    Hi one and all! So sorry for such a very long absence! As I said earlier, Mummy (over eighty!) contracted pneumonia a while back. Subsequently, it left her alarmingly weak, so I’ve been going down to Surrey every weekend to nurse her better. Thank goodness she’s pulling-round now, but for weeks and weeks I’ve been returning to London every Monday morning to piles of work and undone domestic chores! Anyway, this is to let you know that I've just resumed my Lucy's Story (my life story in high heels), and have just posted Chapter 53 on Jenny's Forum: http://members3.boardhost.com/jennyheels/?982958163 and all 53 chapters can be read on this High Heel Meeting Place - see "Stories With a Heely Theme": http://www.hhplace.org/hhboard/viewtopic.php?t=1798&start=40 Love, Lucy
  11. Hi one and all! So sorry for such a very long absence! Mummy (over eighty!) contracted pneumonia a while back, and it left her alarmingly weak, so I’ve been going down to Surrey every weekend to nurse her better. Thank goodness she’s pulling-round now, but for weeks and weeks I’ve been returning to London every Monday morning to piles of work and undone domestic chores! Anyway I hope to resume my story here now, and then as and when time permits! My warmest thanks to all the repliers to my Chapter 52, and to my “Sexiest Heels Road-Test” report, and to those posting and PMing their good wishes, RPM, Erica (congratulations on your marriage and baby-to-be!), Stu, Sinkem, Allu, Paul North-East (congratulations on your “Memories” story!), Bubba136, Shyguy, Raincat, Bobsmith, Rob, JeffM, Bladerunner, jmc, Georgia Marie, DawnHH and Mickey (speedy recovery after your kidney operation, Mickey!), Puffer, Smudgear, Patience, Rich, Anita C., highHEELman, Brianne cd, Genebujold and Jim. To those newcomers who don't know me yet, I’m a London businesswoman now aged 60 who has been writing her life-story in high heels. Chapter one started as a schoolgirl in the first stiletto heel boom of the mid 1950s, and by Chapter 52 I had got up to 1964 when my boyfriend Clarence had just bought me my first 6” heels. As I write each chapter, I post it on Jenny's lovely Forum: http://members3.boardhost.com/jennyheels/?982958163 and then it is also copied here to build up all the chapters into a "book". Here's Chapter 53: CHAPTER 53 The Friday evening after Madeline had the show-down with her Mother and Aunt about her ultra-high heels, our phone rang and it was my long-lost Clarence! “Hello Betty Page!” he chuckled, obviously referring to have given me the wonderful 6” “Betty Page” heels before he sailed to New York on the Queen Elizabeth. “We’ve just arrived back in Southampton. I was the first in line to use the officer’s telephone connection! Can you come to my mews cottage at say, 10.30 tomorrow morning? And bring your new ‘Six Inch Bettys’ with you! It’s a surprise day!” “I wonder what he’s got in store for you!” mused Velma and Madeline. It’s silly really, but that night I could hardly sleep. I got so excited every time I was about to see Clarence! On the Saturday morning, I duly set out across London wearing one of my pairs of trusty 4 ¾” stiletto-heeled “Alps” courts but duly carrying my fantastic new “Six Inch Bettys” in a bag, as instructed. As usual, I entered Clarence’s mews lane, and teetered and wobbled my way over the cobblestones to his cottage door at the far end and knocked at his brass high heel doorknocker. Instantly a beaming Clarence opened it and I flung myself into his open arms. He lifted me up bodily and swung me into the cottage. We kissed each other to death as though we’d been separated for two years instead of for only two weeks. Then as my eyes adjusted from the sunlight to the darker sitting-room, something was different. My goodness! Clarence’s big framed picture of Marilyn Monroe in high heels was missing. Instead, in it’s place was an even bigger framed enlarged photograph. It was me! I was making my debut in those Betty Page 6” heels! Of course! My mind sprang back to waving goodbye at Clarence’s departing ship at the Cunard Ocean Terminal and seeing a telephoto lense pointing at me out of his port-hole! “Good eh?” laughed Clarence. “I got the ship’s photography chaps to do that enlargement in their darkroom, and I bought the frame over in Edgware Road first thing this morning”.“Well” I said, “That’s amazing ….I don’t know what to say – I’m speechless!”. I gazed at the picture which dominated the whole room. “But oh dear Clarence” I wailed, “Look at my unnatural posture and bent knees! It was my first time ever in 6” heels and I look so awkward in them!”. “Nonsense!” enthused Clarence, “You are one fantastic lady! I don’t know any other girl who would even try to wear them, let alone endeavour to walk right along the entire quayside like that! It’s the best photograph I’ve ever taken – the best girl in the world wearing the sexiest shoes in the world!”. I’d never seen Clarence look so flushed and excited. He lovingly put his strong manly arms around me and lowered me fondly on to his settee. What happened at that point in the day must be left to the reader’s imagination! Somewhat later, and when we had made ourselves look more respectable again, Clarence said “And now on to the surprise that I mentioned on the phone last night”. “Oh” I said, “Wasn’t that picture it then?”. “No” chortled Clarence “The surprise is that Doug, one of my catering officer chums has loaned me his Aston Martin sports car for the weekend, and we’re off to Windsor the see Windsor Castle and to see Nell Gwyn’s house and to have a slap-up meal there too!”. Before I could gasp a reaction, Clarence added “But on one condition! That you promise to wear your 6” Betty’s throughout the trip! The perfect start towards your training you to get those knees straight!”. So deliriously happy was I that I breathed “Oh yes, yes, yes Clarence” and kissed him and put on my incredible new mega-high 6” heels and tottered over to the sapphire-blue Aston Martin outside before realising that Windsor was going to be all hills and steep slopes and impossible ups and downs everywhere! I was so head-over-heels in love, and hypnotised by the feel of those wonderfully sensuous leather shoes on my feet, and the extravagant leather of the Aston Martin’s passenger seat, and Clarence’s masterful driving that I didn’t heed the message in the title of a song that was popular at that time in the 1960s: “Fools Rush in Where Angels Fear To Tread!”. More very soon I hope, Love, Lucy
  12. Vintage Fashion Scans and Photographs

    Hi Raincat! Thank you for the lovely message! Regarding my "Road Test of the Sexiest Mulers", you've wrong-footed me a bit, because I wrote that report as a three-part report which finished with the third and final part. I wasn't intending to spin it out further, and in fact with the winter weasther setting in now, it'll probably be next summer before I have a chance to wear them again. However,regarding my "Lucy's Story" I fully intend that to be ongoing. It's only because of poor Mummy that I've not been posting. After the pnuemonia passed (thank goodness), it left her so weak, especially in the chest, that I have been down every single weekend to nurse her. That meant a mountain of housework and business pressures awaiting me every Monday after I'd got back. Still she's finally back to almost her old self and I can relax a bit more now, and I hope to resume my Story before too long. Thank you again for your concern and for your welcome back! Love, Lucy
  13. 1980's stilettos

    Hello again Puffer! I have observed that most of us girls put little pressure on our really high heels because we are virtually tip-toing along with all the weight on our toes. Our heels only contact the floor marginally before the toe, and at that time quite a bit of our body weight is still on the toe of the rear foot before it leaves the floor. and also as our forward foot comes down the momentum of the body weight is rolling forward on the heel as the toe-box pivots down to the ground, causing the thrust to be forwards across the top of the heel at thast moment rather than down through the heel to make a dent in the floor. The two things than combine to make really damaging floor-dents are low, thin kitten heels, and stationary standing on them with all the weight on the heels. Love, Lucy
  14. Vintage Fashion Scans and Photographs

    Hi Puffer! Yes, I remember singer Kathy Kirby. She had her own television show for a while. I even remember watching one of her programmes when she was wearing my beloved 'Alps' 4 3/4" heels in the slingback version, and I exclaimed "Look Mummy, she's wearing the same shoes as me!". At around the same time there was another UK lady singer who also had her own television show entitled "Little Miss Music" - Shiela Buxton. Shiela was shorter and more bucksome than the tall, elegant Kathy Kirby, and also wore some lovely high-heeled shoes, and I remember wishing like mad that I could discover where she got them from! Love, Lucy
  15. 1980's stilettos

    Hi Puffer! Yes, broadly I would agree with what you've said, especially your point that many of us wore heels over 3" (contrary to Skirted's posting). I would only venture to say that the first UK stiletto "craze" started earlier than you said, and hit us girls and our mothers in a big way in 1955. I think it had already started sweeping through Italy (and maybe the US) by 1954 or earlier, but 1955 the "Big Bang" reached the UK and by 1956 they were everywhere - on the streets, in my school (worn by the teachers and some of us more daring pupils), on cinema films etc. Remembering that there was only one fashion in those days - skirts, nylon stockings and high heels, every girl everywhere started wearing them. They came along the pavements in droves! Love, Lucy
×