A Day at Hazeltown-a trying on of Pumps

(If you mean the preposition ”at” is wrongly used in the headline, my defence is , really, I did it on purpose, as a funny gimmick, really, alluding to expressions as in Queen’s ”A day at the Races”, ”A night at the Opera”. Hazeltown being a vague translation of the town’s Swedish name. The real name would be ”Hazel Islet” but that name seem so akward in English, so Hazeltown it will be! Furthermore, I thought it quite funny to write ”a trying on of pumps” is really meant to be that magnificent, I choose voluntarlily not to state: ”trying on pumps”. All of which means I’m in quite a good mood!

I went to town yesterday with time at the dentist, after which visit I took the opportunity to fix a few errands.  The woman in this picture …… wears wonderful pumps, my husband told me, him having put the picture as desktop background. I agreed and was inspired: wrote an entry analyzing her clothing. And forward a post on my own relation to pumps, here above.

Yes folks, pumps! Shoes without strings to tye, nor with any straps or velcro bands to pull together the leather round my feet. Yesterday I spent in town. After having been at the dentist, I decided to run some errands, to wonder about in the small streets round the square and try to enjoy the lovely lilac smelling air. It had been a long time, some years or so, since I went into a shoe shop, so I thought I’d have a go and look at some of those black heavenly pumps that make goddesses of women. And truly, there they were on the shelf, a perfect pair of round toed, low heel pumps even I would be able to walk in without risking to stumble on pavement edges and fall straight on my nose at the asphalt and break my glasses. Which has happened, and glasses are expensive. So I asked the female shop clerk for one of those thin little brown sock of a stocking, put in on my foot and then tried on one of the coveted shoes. Normally, I pull size 39 (Swedish size, i.e. English size 6, US 8.5). The shoe sat as cast round my front foot, neatly caressing my long toes. I put my heel in the back, put my foot plainly on the carpet, pressed the toe gently toward the floor and raised the heel, as if to imitate the beginning of a step. Should my heel stay in the shoe? Answer un undoubtedly No! Again, as so many times before, it was confirmed that my feet are long and very narrow. Shoe width measured in letters, namely F, G and H, H being for broad feet, G for normal and F for narrow. Even saw a K last in a catalogue for extremely wide feet. But there seem to be no equivalents for tiny lasts, possible C only for childrens feet. So for me it’s best to stuck with Italian lasts. Or maybe Chinese as being famous for tiny feet. Shoe factorers do everything they can to please ladies with enourmous feet. Scholl anyone?  But we small lasted woman are discriminated au the crudest. My heel did obviously not stay put back in the shoe, and when I raised the heel part, my heel was lifted up from the shoe which stayed on the ground. Hah! This was just what could be expected. Then I tried on a size 38, (5-7,5), but the shoe being much too short, I  couldn’t even get the foot in. Well, I asked if there were any 38,5 (5,5-8) but got a negative reply. Typical! There was another pair not as sublimly created as the first ones, with pointy toe and higher heel. I did not like them and there stumble-and-crush-your-glasses-capacity. They did not fit my slender feet either. My heel was, again, too tiny. Have come to ….. that coming to pumps I much prefer a rounded to mirroring my soft and laidback psyche. Leave the pointy ones to women that more aggressively try to outmanoeuvre others, climbing, with unscrupulous ambivalence, up the carrier ladder. Pointy pumps: the ferociously kicking cleaning lady in a Bond movie, yes, the woman with spikes on her shoe tips!

So what to do to make heels stay in pumps? Those little insoles to place in the back of the shoe to make the heels stay put have shown repeated times to be of no use whatsoever. They are much to flat and does not do it’s job. So I thought how to do instead. Makeup sponges? Could they be the solution. Any makeup sponge thick enough which does not flatten when the heel push against the shoe’s back part? Later, exploring a makeup store, came across packages of foamrubber hair curlers. Could maybe use one such? To put between my heel and the shoe’s? They are thick and rather hard to press together, so the heel ought to press them flat only with difficulty. They could finally be the answer to my pumpsy prayers. Maybe I gonna get a parcel next time in town and try the pumps again if they are still unsold.

I must tell you, folks, more of my sunny adventures of yesterday. It being a rather warm Summer’s day, Friday and the youth having left high school riding and dancing on the beds of ornated trucks parading through the streets, it was a really feisty day. Hazeltown echoing with high volume music,  heavily drumming away, and new carriages  getting nearer all the time. There were large pieces of paper monted on the trucks with funny messages like: ”I chose this and that high school program because everyone else did!” End of high school is celebrated sprightly, here in Sweden, after the Student exam, one of those so called transition rites, a person is, kind of considered a grown up and expected to find themselves a job. This in our modern time when (almost) all youth attend upper high school (”gymnasium”), Back then, before the War, or so, this ritual tranition to adulthood was introduced when children were ”confirmed” in the Lutheran church, at the age of 14-15, when ”folk school” having ended after 6 or 7 years, after which celebration,  poor patrents’ children got jobs quickly and easily in contrast to today’s examined students of 18 or 19 who must wait for jobs many years! Parents have to support them way beyond their 30′, this being the unemployment era. Hope their relation to parents is good, someting which, according to my own experience, is not always the case. This, of course, could bring on social difficulties, not only because of unemployment. Youth with means continued to higher educations.  Lots of people on the pavement, looking at the ”cortege” smiling and chatting, twinkling in the bright sunshine hallowing the blue skies, filming and taking snapshots, small children held high. How I envied those students, their white caps, and happy celebration. Back in 1978, when I ”took the Student” there was not that kind of pomp at all. I should dream to be able to celebrate it again. My white student cap I still have. Baloons and branches of green birch, cockards, rosettes and festoons, all in yellow and blue, the Swedish colours, lest anyone didn’t know. When I remembered my ”Student” 37 years ago, I counted it to be. How fast did not time go? Would be worth a Shakespeare quote to lapidarically and boldly summarize what I felt concerning all those years having past since that glorious day, June 3rd, 1978.

I did not know this happening was at hand, as I sat quietly on the commoting train to Hazeltown. Prepared with a bottle of cold water as a remedy for my heat sensitivity, to give me energy when the heat took the toll of me, to make my capacity of action last the day out. Put on a flowery summer dress in soft cotton jersey or were it viscose – those are my favourite warm weather cloths. It is a v-neck piece, long lined and ending at my calfs – actually too long a garment for my short legs. Mirrored in display windows I looked awkwardly frumpy with stumps of legs.  Who wants to appear as a square old lady even if older than 50?! My clumpsy black tyeing shoes in black socks which I had rolled down to reduce the impression of sturdiness, did not make it any better. But what in all……..could I have done? I should have taken my sandals. Why didn’t I?Must confess, I am a rather ADHDily person. And the shoe gear contrasted revoltingly against my soft dress with flower pattern. It was not the pattern that looked frumpy, it was the hem at the calves and the clumpsy appearing shoes. The v-neck framed well my neck and chin, the light blue put a mild cast to my white skin and was not – in context of colour-so wrong a choice for me. A Springish kind of tonality to please my own mild and subtile colouring quite well. A dove blue, medium light and based on a …. grey, overridden with flowers in different reds and roses, whites not to be excluded, it felt nice to wear and cool in the beautiful weather. In the beginning of the day could I not have chosen any better. And it had a thin white lining, so petticote superfluous. This lining made me feel safer, because thin cloths make dresses translucent in dark shadows if not any lining or petticoat. Am a little conservative about such things. All through the day I kept on analyzing my coloring, how it changed. First, in the dentist’s chair, I looked up at the lamp which had a little mirror entached. I saw my face blushing from the heat outside, not a nice blush, but a pumping very uneven one, a sweating red, and then my forhead and eyearea and cheekbones turned black mark yellow in the lamp glass coloured a diluted cola. The light painted a lilac circle round my eyes, and even underlined my brows with this outspaced hue. The brow hair which I had thought was quite toned down, fair as they are and having trimmed them, were not only a neat line but a whole forest. So there I sat, a tricolore of a lady, a golden ockry blackmark yellow , electrical lilac and sweatty red blood rushing to my face, cheeks and everywhere which shouldn’t be blushing.It felt not good. Feeling the warmth pumping in my face, sweatting through all pores and lymphic areas, why hadn’t I brought along a kitchen towel to soak in cold  water and gently wash myself cooling the body down, stressed with heat as I was. Then I saw my hairy legs. First rule in the book: a sophisticaded lady should of course shave her legs when not in hiding trousers.  Next time I reacted to my appearence was when I passed the shop window. Could I perhaps cut off the dress a bit and trim the hem a bit higher up, maybe above the knees, don’t know. Try? Or vill the lovely dress be destroyed? A while later I botanized very choosily among nailpolishes and lipsticks in the makeup store but found keine. Well, I found some I could wear, the tester was there, but the colours outsold. I found on a nailpolishtester a rich warm red, and brownbased, so perfect for me, the only really autumnal hue there was, but no bottle with this colour in the counter. Then found, in the l’Oréal counter a orange red lipstick shade that looked good on me to judge from the tester. It had number 011, but no 011 in the lipstick row. Not a single one! Am I doomed to search in vane among trillions of pale and cold colours for Summers, and much too light and sheer yellowbased for all Springs lights and clears, Warm Springs do not bother to make an effort! Knowing that Summer hues too matte on me – I could as well skip all makeup. Which I had actually done. As always. What  I’m doing, whitin this timespan, is beginning to transform myself to becoming more raffinated and proud in the future, and at last a neat and tidy silverhaired lady, not a trashy hag.  The sun shone without mercy on my skin ruthlessly emphazing its paleness making it ugly as can be. Am much more to my advantage in mild eventing light caressing this oversensitive skin with a mild golden. Freckles red in contrast. I felt ugly, sweatty and stressed. In a gentlemens’ shop I tested on a shirt cheqcered in earth colors. Fell in love and bought my husband one also. At home comparing it to another shirt cheqcered in lilac and blues – found that both garments were of the same earthy tonality. They were of the exact same colouring class. My blue background flowery dress was of another class. When I tried the shirt on in the shop I had pulled it over my dress, so saw instantly that they clashed. Can wear both color scales but obviously not simultaneously. Something I really learnt yesterday. Summing up: 1. Next time it’s hot outside, bring a kitchen towel or two, a big bottle of cold water to drink to keep up energy, and to soak the towels – or slip in to a toilet room and soak it there. 2. Learn to shave, that is the beginning of style. 3. Trim the brows properly – as seen laying down in the dentist chair they’re mirrored from a whole other perspective which cannot be seen when you’re standing up. 4. Buy some of those soft hair rollers and use when trying pumps on in shoe shops.If this works, good. 5. Else you can always use them making funny creations with your hair. 6.Talking of feet, by the way, must learn to attend to them properly. 7.Pondering on visiting a pedicurist as I hardly reach my feet when clipping toenails. 8. And of course, more often, the hairdresser. All this seem like new year’s promises, eyh.

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