Shoes of Shame & Wheels on Fire


Name that Tune: ‘Cool, keep the faith and be my mate, ‘Cause all we need is feet (and rollerskates)’ – A Rollerskating Jam Named Saturday – De La Soul

Movie Quote of the Day: ‘To make something special you just have to believe it’s special’ – Kung Fu Panda

Tuesday, I noticed on the school run that R was walking slightly pigeon-toed & on inspection it seemed that she had been walking inward on her shoes which were now deformed as a consequence. So with that and the scuffs it was time for new school shoes already and we are not even at half term yet! Bman agreed and even offered to take us out straight from school to purchase new footwear, so you can imagine how bad they must’ve looked if Mr Rumpletightwad was prepared to put his hand in his wallet and release some moths! (Love you babe). So Tuesday afternoon saw us touring the local footwear megastores where I somehow transformed into my Dad circa 1980; selecting the ugliest, sturdiest, lace up clumperhopper Mr Silly shoes and trying to persuade my horrified eldest that these were the next big thing in stylish footwear for the under 6’s whilst alarming her with tales of ingrowing toenails, deformed feet, fallen arches & threats that the next pair would be paid for out of her own money or I would be sending her into school with her slippers on and a note around her neck saying “I cannot take care of my shoes so my mum is making me come to school in these”.

We compromised on a pair which ticked all the right girly boxes for her but did not have a heel (hello! – shoes for small children… no cuban heels please) but were flat enough and robust enough to at least see her through to the Spring. It was only by sheer luck (for her) that they did not have her size in the Mr Silly built-up with laces style, otherwise it would have been them for sure and to hell with the inevitable tears & tantrums. They can invent a chuffing useless toy poodle dog that grows from a puppy and retails at £50 but no-one has invented anything useful like a sturdy yet stylish child’s school shoe that extends somehow to accommodate growing feet. Dragons Den? Here I come.

Wednesday night was my night out for H’s birthday, belated by a couple of weeks, where we met up with DL in town for a few drinks and despite our attempts at persuading him to join us at the Roller Disco he could not be swayed so we sallied forth with some trepidation but warmed from the few bevvies to relive the 80’s roller style. Legwarmers had been purchased for the purpose in order to try and look the part but when we saw the group infront of us at the cloakroom we realized that we were woefully under (over?) dressed as we were not in P.E knickers over dag-glo tights, sweatbands, Xanadu vests or technicolour tutu’s. Undeterred we signed the disclaimer that we were not under the influence of anything liable to impair our balance and that if we were to be so later on in the evening we would remove our skates and vacate the dancefloor area; we then traded our street footwear for some retro quad skates. Man I had forgotten how heavy they are! H’s were better than mine too & mine clashed with my pink legwarmers but nay matter. When we arrived there were more Marshalls on the dance floor than customers but this at least gave us some time and space to practice staying upright and taking corners before all the pisshead students rocked up and the true arm flailing and tumbling to the floor began in earnest. The general room of thumb seemed to be that the younger and more 80’s retro dressed the skater, the crapper they were at staying upright. We managed to not fall over at all although that may have been fluke more than skill but very little in the way of actual rollerdisco dancing was done, it was more of round and round and round and round type thing. Our only foray into the realm of ‘dancing’ was more like a hysterical robotic shuffling which bore no resemblance to any dancing we had ever done in regular footwear. By about midnight though we had enough and the place was starting to smell rather sweaty so we left and headed home after a certain amount of incredulous bartering with taxi drivers outside Bar Risa, one of whom tried to claim it would cost £50 to get us to Horsforth then on to my house! I know there’s a financial crisis going on but how many banks had failed in the time we were rolling around to warrant such inflation??? Managed to get one to take us for a more respectable £20 although it should really have been about £16 but by that stage I couldn’t be bothered to argue anymore and just wanted my bed. Would definitely be up for roller disco again in the future though. I am even tempted to get myself some boots on eBay and whizz to work on them – haha.

Bro in law is on way from Liverpool as I write, not sure what the plan is for the weekend but it will be good to have a visitor.



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