Ballet, boots and covetousness…

When you are younger you simply don’t realise the effect some actions will have on the rest of your life.

As a young girl, I was obsessed with ballet, dutifully my parents enrolled me in classes and did everything they could to nurture and provide for my obsession.

Looking back now, I realise that I never had any talent and had as much chance of becoming a ballet dancer as I did an astronaut.  What I did do, with the endless hours of practicing was overdevelop my already genetically disposed calf muscles.

Far too much ballet

Far too much ballet

Huge they are, over-ripped huge.   My tiny, size 3 feet, do not help the issue.  My shorter than average legs only compound the issue.

Knee high boots are infinitely an issue and as each Fall season comes upon us I look longingly upon those who can wear beautiful riding boots with an unmistakable pang of pure killer jealousy.

As with most things in life my overdeveloped calves have a nemesis – the mid calf boot.

A fashion piece that is supposed to be worn loose and relaxed (in a rock chic way) placed on my gigantour calves look like two strained leather tree trunks.  Unlike a wonky nose or undeveloped lady chest, to my knowledge, there is no current cure or plastic surgery option for my problem.  A trip to Harley Street will not help.  I will just have to continue to live in jealously throughout Fall and longingly wait for summer, and the return of the sandal.

my nemesis

my nemesis

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