Ever since I could remember I have always wanted to
be older than I was. I can tell you that now at 48 I don't
want to be older than I am anymore. But as a child, I always
wanted to be older. Being an only child growing up in my
grandmother's home, I never felt like a baby. Not really
having many kids my own age to play with, I gravitated
towards adults quite a bit. Also, as a young child I was
privy to conversations that let us say were not age
appropriate.
Adults
always found me wise beyond my years. Yet children of my own
age never much played with me. Therefore whenever I could I
found older children that enjoyed being around me. All these
factors contributed to my desire to be older than I was.
I found
my transformation complete when I would put on adult shoes.
One of my most cherished childhood memories was when my
cousin age five, and I age eight, would put on plastic high
heel shoes that were bought at the five and dime store. Then
we would parade up and down the sidewalk in them. It never
occurred to either one of us how cheep and gawky these
plastic high heel shoes really were. For me I was grown up.
I was like all the pretty ladies on the street.
On
occasion somebody would tell me to take those silly looking
shoes off before I fell and hurt myself, but I flatly
refused. My purple plastic shoes were beautiful. I pretended
they were glass slippers and I was Cinderella!
One of
the saddest times of my life was when I outgrew these
plastic high heels yet I still had to watch my cousin parade
up and down the street in them. I was miserable!
It just
wasn't enough that I could still wear a floppy hat, carry a
purse and smoke my candy cigarettes, I wanted my high heel
shoes!
I was
not allowed to wear heels as a young girl for my regular
shoes, but I always pleaded for the shoe with the highest
heel that I could get away with. However, even that could
not compensate for my purple plastic high heels shoes from
the five and dime store!
One
time, someone brought us a box of old shoes to distribute to
anyone who wanted them. We went through the boxes together
and most of them were high heels. I was delighted but not my
grandmother. She said they were old fashioned high heels
that were worn in the 40's and 50's. It was now the late
60's and nobody she knew would wear them. I pleaded with her
to let me have them. After some negotiation she allowed me
to have a few pairs on the condition that I share them with
my cousin Shirley.
Once
again we paraded the streets in our high heels, with wide
brimmed hats, large purses, and candy cigarettes hanging out
of our mouths. How grown up I felt!
My
favourite pair was a black 4 inch pump that tied around the
ankle. It was a pair that I was sure the grand ladies of the
movies wore. This particular pair I was certain belonged to
Joan Crawford herself!
From
Cinderella, to Joan Crawford, from a princess to a movie
star, my tastes where changing for sure. Now I was Joan
Crawford. I mean it I really was!
Whether
the heels broke, or my grandmother threw away my Joan
Crawford pumps, I don't really remember. All I know is that
my fascination with high heels was brought to an abrupt
ending.
At
thirteen, I still loved shoes, but I no longer wanted to be
older than I actually was. I just wanted to be like every
other girl of my age and wear what ever other girl of my age
was wearing.
The
style in 1968 was white go go boots and fishnet stockings
and I like every other teenager wanted them badly. My
grandmother refused to buy them for me. She was not much
into fashion and she felt that I was too young to be
dressing like a "lady of the evening".
It took
months of pleading with her to let me buy them. I would
explain over and over that it was not the apparel of ladies
of the night. All the girls in my high school had them. She
would tell me that I was too young to wear fishnet
stockings. Yet, I was allowed to wear nylon stockings when I
was dressed up. What is the difference I would argue.
She was
relentless "you will look like a hooker" she said.
I will
wear only white fishnet I responded. They will go well with
the go go boots. You see I was relentless too!
What go
go boots she responded, "If you think I am wasting good
money on those things your crazy".
But they
are pretty
You will
look like a hooker.
No I
won't!
With my
white fishnet stockings and go go boots I will look like a
majorette and I know you like magorettes!
I won, I
got the fishnet stockings and the go go boots, and I was the
happiest girl alive. I thought I was beautiful. I no longer
was Cinderella, or Joan Crawford, I was me, and I looked
like a majorette. I would hold my head up high and walk down
the street singing "These boots are made for walking" by
Nancy Sinatra, and I was the envy of my street.
No
longer did people laugh at my high heels. They envied my go
go boots. I was the first kid on the block to have them and
I was just me, not Cinderella, nor Joan Crawford, just me.
Fishnet stockings and go go boots became the rite of passage
for the little girl becoming a woman in her own right.
?© 2003 Carol Roach
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Blessings to you. Have a great week ahead.
Bob Johnston
Minneapolis
Starfish @ Ripplemaker.com
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