Heel marks

hen we moved into the house there was carpets in most rooms, as with the flat we had just left. Well that’s not strictly true, we had a ‘great’ time having to tearing them up before leaving. As this was going to be our first and by the looks of it our last house we were going to completely renovate until our decorating budget ran out.

We decided on tiles for the kitchen, bathrooms and hallway and wood (real or imitation) for the rooms. The only carpet was to be on the landing. As we wanted to completely refurnish the living room we went to the annual Mobelmesse (international interiors show) here in Cologne to get some ideas. We spent a day walking around noting what we didn’t want and realising at the end of our hike that we were no wiser than before we left that morning.
Luckily a friend introduced us to a couple that does interior design (her) and the technical and carpentry side (him). It worked well and we ended up with a combination of light coloured maple and bamboo for the sideboards, cabinets, multimedia wall and dining room table customised to our wishes.

We had decided on parquet for the living room and went for a light soft Canadian maple (to match the furnishings) that turned out to be very soft. Yes I know we heard the warning bells too. But our minds were set. We were advised to take a thick layer so as to have the possibility of sanding it down and re-lacquering sometime in the future. The picture doesn’t do it justice, but one can see it is light in colour.

We realised that the ‘customised’ living room had taken a real chunk out of our budget and so the floors upstairs would have to be somehow downgraded. So it was decided to have a plastic wood imitation lamination in the bedroom and my workroom in the roof, and a cheap wood lamination in MrsA’s office. Well our Canadian maple has over the years being marked and dented from hard objects being drawn over or falling on it, the worse to date was one of my iPads falling off the sideboard..
[Ed: I suppose of its own accord!?]
Well yes, sort off..
[Ed: Thought so, mind of their own]
??
The iPad survived but the screen saver showed some weird psychedelic colours and was as if stretched like looking through a prism. As I had nothing to lose, I took it in both hands and tried to twist it along the major axis. The 'bending' worked and normality was returned. I take it I had with the manoeuvre reconnected the lose internal screen plug to the motherboard. I bought a new one after that..
[Ed: Any excuse..]
Hey! I couldn't take the chance it would warp again could I?
Well to date it hasn’t and now I have three (long story).

Now back to the floor.
There are also marks from heels of some of our female visitors and one in particular that usually forgets to bring her flats. Most of our ‘regular’ visitors now know following a little prep talk that they have to bring slippers or soft shoes otherwise either they have to stay outside or 'reduce' to socks/stockings or bare feet.
With the experience and anger it brings, the living room has become a total DMZ for outdoor shoes of any kind. This now works quite well but unfortunately the damage is done.
I don’t even have to put on my stern ‘I hope you brought your slippers’ stare anymore when I greet them in the (tiled) hallway. Some of our friends are so compliant that they swap their footwear out in the pouring rain if need be before ringing the door bell!
Just in case someone is forgetful or we have spontaneous visitors we have a number of felt slippers in a box in the hallway similar to some stately houses with floors that get a regular polish by paying visitors.
I have over the years discussed and scrutinised with MrsA on more than one occasion the impressions we get left with following visitors. Hence these telltale marks are readable to anyone who has had problems of this type. Our stair case is also wood and has marks from the previous owners daughter, typical round stilettos marks. Fortunately due to the lighting in the stairwell they are only visible when you know where to look.

Up to this point you may have some sort of inkling where this is all leading. You may be thinking it’s to do with heel marks, and if any of you have taken a look at my heel collection, then it's to do with my heels.
Well right on both accounts.
But as of today and in the future I hope to not leave this type of impression in the living room floor. This room and the stairs are absolute taboo to my heel walkabouts..
[Ed: Don’t you mean wobbleabouts?]
Indirectly yes, that too. The last thing I want to do on top of micro heel patterns is slip and gorge a gorge in the floorscape!

Accidents of the usual kind that MrsA and myself make introduce lets say ‘character’ to the floor and is to a certain extent okay. My heel patterns would make MrsA realise there is another woman in the house beside herself, and then there would be a ‘talk’ that I have been avoiding for what seems like eons.
Even if I would never walk in heels in the living room, when I on the rare occasions have the place to myself for longer than an hour I will sometimes dress and go and lounge around on the couch. Yes that is a ladder in my tights.. #$%*!

If you look closely at the picture left [Ed: above and to the left of the light reflection] these marks are from the forgetful female visitor mentioned above and are not from me!
While dressed I go upstairs carrying my heels, then put them on, check myself and take pictures in the large mirror on the landing. If the sun is shining I would go into the bedroom to sit on the bed to see how I look in daylight (see picture below).
It may sound strange that about daylight, its not because I have strange blood running through my veins, its because all my stash is stored in the cellar and were I normally stay when dressed. Its only now and then I risk it to come up and see myself in sunlight.

Now that I have giving you some background to sensitive floors and pointed heels and were I wear them, I must revise something I said about the floors in the bedroom and office. 

I'm not sure how I mixed things up in my head but the bedroom and office floor material is the other way round!
That is plastic wood imitation lamination in the office and cheap wood lamination in the bedroom. This sounds more logical from the wear and tear perspective. Office floor robust and bedroom floor well, comfortable.
And this is also how we planned it!
Hence I have over the last couple of years been walking back and forth on wood and to top it all on soft cheap wood!

Well quite some time ago while I was in the office with the door semi shut. I heard our cleaning woman come out from the bedroom next door onto the landing and call MrsA. I though nothing of it as they both disappeared into the bedroom. I heard a bit of a muffled conversation until MrsA called me to come over.
As I entered they were talking as they were bent down almost on their knees looking at the floor at an acute angle. I had no idea what was going on until I was asked to join them and also look at the floor at the same angle. I saw the reflection of the sunlight through the bedroom window opposite on the floor and their in relief there were markings!!

I immediately knew what they were and I had a moment of sinking and becoming sort of out of focus with my surroundings. I heard MrsA a long way away asking me what I thought they were. 
I quickly returned and went into my um and ah routine as with the twinkle glitter findings in the cellar from my pink prom dress.
I came over ‘confused’ and muttered something about ‘I have no idea how they came about’, knowing full well how they came about! I really thought the games was up, but even after our cleaning woman had left, I heard nothing more about it.
It can't be more than a dozen times, but I have been leaving my 'mark' all this time, not much, but readable with the right light.
Of course I didn’t bring up the subject again, but I still wonder why with the experience and findings we had in the living room that she had not given any indications of knowing and imagining how they came to appear in the bedroom. Maybe she is waiting for me to make the first move and admit they are from me. Or maybe she just wants to forget it all, and get back to business as usual.

I have loaded above two pictures for your scrutiny, I think it's obvious what they are, but your opinion would be welcome.

Pink Prom Dress - I - Selecting & Ordering

ix months down the road I’m still somewhat in shock and astound that I even contemplated buying let alone ordering the title of this post.
[Ed: I’m even more astounded that you are writing a post on it!]
True, in a previous post I went on about my online buying experience and that it all came to an end with leaving work (see ObserVation: A day 'in' shopping). Last summer I thought that I would carry on working not as intensive as before but at least a few days in the week and for quite some time.
With this in mind I thought it would be business as usual. I hadn’t really thought about having to stop shopping as I would be in the office at least once a week, and if for nothing else to pick up my parcels and smuggle them home.
As October was coming to a close I realised that at the end of the year I would be going into full retirement. This meant that after three years of on-line shopping, feeding my wardrobe and makeup case, it would all soon come to an end.

I started to panic, realising what that meant. In the New Year I could still browse but not hit the buy button! Good for the wallet but not for that tingling feeling when ordering a dress, patterned stockings, a new lipstick and my main vice heels. If they ever discover the HHG, [Ed: High Heel Gene] then I know if screened, I would turn up ++++ positive.
Well when the first panic wave subsided I checked the clock to see how much time I had left taking into consideration the rest of my annual leave and when my last order would arrive before my last official day. Working on passed delivery metrics it was going to be about the beginning of December.
So with this in mind I went into second gear and used this as an ‘excuse’ to really go on a last shopping spree.
[Ed: As if you needed an excuse!].
Hey! Don’t put a girl down for going mad when she’s in a metaphoric candy store just before closing and with no foreseeable chance to ever come back again. One stuffs every available pocket with everything in grabbing distance!
[Ed: You mean like in Pretty Woman when Julia Roberts goes shopping with the credit card from Robert Gere].
Not quite, it’s my credit card and I virtually walk the high street and not toddling on heels in that lovely outfit on real pavements.
Maybe the prom dress was just a part of this panic stricken ‘sweet’ madness.

In the past when browsing on-line it was ‘Oh! That is nice, it should fit but I don’t know .. the price..’ and I would usually move on. If I went to the next level with ‘Oh! Now that’s really is nice!’ it would go into the shopping cart. At the end of such a session I would look at the contents of the cart and usually gasp at the totted up price. In the back of my mind came ‘and were in hell are you going to store it all!’
[Ed: Come on! Stashing logistics had never stopped you in the past, it was the price!].
Yes, I suppose it was. What's a few more cubic meters of stash anyway..

After recovering I would then prune the shopping cart contents back to the ‘really really nice’ items and check the total again. Sometimes I even left everything in the cart ‘to mature’ for a while and try to get my head around the idea of having it..
[Ed: ya, all of 10 seconds]
Stop that!!
When I do came back, however quick, and it is still in the ‘really really nice’ category and [Ed:] was not around then I would order..
[Ed: Gawd, now I’m the excuse!]

With this last so called shopping spree I didn't start out with going mad buying everything in sight. I just became a little less critical when pruning back. I threw away my ‘no way!’ flag and let my ‘now or never’ flag pop up instead.

I also looked more at dresses than heels thinking I had enough of them (heels that is) which is of course not possible but I wanted to stock up on dresses especially to match the heels I had.
[Ed: what you find as excuses to buy things!]
But it’s true; I have a lovely pair of yellow heels (just look at that heel!), only I never found a dress to go with them! Now the chance is gone, even if I do find one on-line..

And then one day, while surfing Amazon UK..
[Ed: hey! that rhymes!].
??!!
If you haven’t anything better to do than butting in all the time, go and put the kettle on..
Where was I? Oh yes surfing. Well I came across a prom dress in blue with a very reasonable price, actually it was advertised as an evening gown, but to me it was what I would expect to wear at a prom..
[Ed: How would you know, you’re never been anywhere near one!].
.. ‘ang on a tick dear reader, I’ll close the kitchen door...
[Ed: Hey! …]

When seeing something like this I would normally sigh and carry on browsing. This was because if I did look more closely it would usually mean leaving in frustration either because the sizes available were much too small (sometimes the Amazon filters are totally useless!), or because of review complaints concerning sizes of Far Eastern sellers (see ObserVation: A day 'in' shopping).
Well as I was in a what-the-heck-lets-take-a-peek-anyway mood and this dress fell in the ‘really really nice’ category, I took one look at my ‘now or never’ flag and clicked on the article for a closer look. There were various colours to choose from with slightly different designs.

I was adventurous and selected the pink version and went ‘wow’.
I saw that the size range covered mine which was unusual and therefore there came a second ‘wow’.
Also the source was the UK, which meant the given sizes could well be correct and so a third ‘wow’ leaked out.
I read the reviews and all the girls (and some of their mothers) were happy with the buy so I added a further ‘wow’ to the collection.

Now all this ‘wowing’ was getting me interested.

I'm not sure what went through me head, but as I looked at the girl in the picture I said to myself ‘I want to wear what's she’s wearing’ followed by ‘and if so, why not in that pink..’
I was slightly taken back after hearing myself say that. I followed it with a ‘hey what’s going on here!’ Usually [Ed:] would comeback with a retort but he was busy in the kitchen. So I had to fend for myself at that moment.
Wow, did I needed that cup of tea..

Often enough in the past either on-line, the telly, or in the numerous piles of magazines of the misses, I’ve looked at a dress or outfit and said to myself ‘now I wouldn’t mind wearing that’ knowing full well I couldn’t and wouldn’t. A few seconds of day dreaming followed by [Ed:] mentally poking me in the ribs and reluctantly shifting me back to reality mode is fully ok.
But here I was still starring at the picture for what seemed like ages, well at least the five minutes waiting for the tea to brew. At the same time what started off in the back of my mind as the usual ‘now I wouldn’t mind..’ worked its way forward and warped into a ‘and why shouldn’t I not wear this..’.
I was even more taken back when it dawned on me that I was seriously contemplating buying a classical A-line princess dress with a corset bodice covered in twinkly bits in addition to sequins, chiffon, even a bow, and to top it
ALL IN PINK!

I then heard from somewhere in me head, ’Why do you want this? It's not as if you will ever be going to a prom’.
[Ed: Not only that girl, you won't be going anywhere in any of your wardrobe!].
True, I won’t be and certainly not a prom! But that ‘not going anywhere’ hasn’t stopped me buying in the past and it certainly wasn’t going to stop me with this creation, I was well and truly bitten by a pink prom dress bug!
[Ed: You should see someone about that and I’m not talking about a dermatologist either.
Here’s your cuppa.]
Thanks. And anyway I don’t need to see anyone while you’re around, or was it because of you I needed to see someone...
[Ed: No answer to that. Even if there was it would get very complicated.]

Ok, so I was committed.
[Ed: In more ways than one by the look of it.]
Now there was the problem of picking the ‘right’ size. This wasn't going to be easy. With, let’s say 'normal' dresses and outfits I only had to make sure the label size was correct and cross my fingers by any new brand I hadn’t tried before. The skirt length is not so critical unless you are going for a particular look. One can get an idea from the ad pictures if it’s over or under knee, mini etc. If the hem is at heel level, then one looks for the skirt length in the various sizes.
I was somewhat hesitant when choosing the size for this one, especially the skirt length, as this could make it a go or no go purchase. It's not as if I haven't any long dresses, well up to that point three to be exact, in black, burgundy and my favourite colour mint.
 
Some months before in one of those match the dress to the heel buys, I had ordered a mint green evening dress without taking the length into account. Just never thought about it, hence didn't look (see ad picture, note the helm at floor level). It was ok in the bust and waist department but about 4 inches/10 cm too long even when wearing my 5 inch mint heels (see picture below of my heels without the dress).
 
I have contemplated shortening it myself. The hem looks straight forward enough nothing fancy and just one layer of material. As I have no real practical experience in dress making or alterations for that matter, I would first have to practice on some similar material.

Me Mum made all her dresses and outfits, she was quite good at it, saved me Dad a packet over the years. She had a professional dummy that she could adjust to her measurements. She could read dress patterns like I circuit diagrams. In hindsight I should have taken a little more interest in what she was doing, but at the time I would never have imagined that so many years later I would be contemplating doing alterations to one of my own dresses!
Thinking about it, I wonder what would have happened if she had asked me to model for her (we were about the same build and height) or I had offered to help her with fittings. Maybe things would have turned out differently while growing up.
We inherited her sowing machine, a Singer. MrsA wanted it to raise hems and shorten sleeves. Until now she, and eventually me, can’t use it as it needs a general overhaul. I need to find time for this and then to practice doing hems in an Abi session.
I could of course go to the local seamstress to have it done. I can just imagine walking in with my heels tucked under me arm and a transparent dress bag with the mint dress shining through and asking where I can get changed!
Rather ruin it all by myself..

[Ed: If you please, can we focus again on the colour Pink and not Mint.]
Yes yes of course! Mind wanders..

So here was the first hurdle, the size table from the web site was not complete. It only went up to UK18 with all the measurements in inches for waist, bust, hip and height. The skirt length listed was the same for all sizes, I had no choice but to assume that it would be the same for the sizes not listed. It did occur to me that the size table could have been the wrong chart because it didn’t cover all sizes on offer, but I pushed this aside, just too many ‘ifs’ and I realised it wasn’t going to put me off ordering anyway. I took the length of the skirt and calculated that the hem should just touch the floor when wearing my open toe pink heels.

[Ed: Ah! Now I know why the pink dress, it’s to match the shoes!]
You catch on quick don’t you..
So that was the skirt, next the overall size. I could see that the top was corset like and that there would be lacing up the back. The lacing is to contour the dress to the female form and not to squeeze ones body into one. Therefore the dress material, loops and ribbon would probably not stand up to corset like terra forming. This would mean having to go and dig out one of my corsets to have any chance of getting something even approaching an hourglass figure before lacing up the dress.
I had now to workout the metrics for my usual UK26/28 size, based on the information in the chart. As the progression was linear for each parameter it wasn’t that difficult. Still I went through it a number of times before getting out the tape measure. Which promptly sent me back to the drawing board to convert as the tape was in cm not inches! I should have taken my measurements while wearing the corset, but I didn’t have the chance..
[Ed: You just didn’t want to wait till your next session to put it on that’s all!]
How do you know all this!?
And where’s the bickies?
You can’t ’ave a proper cuppa tea without bickies!

Well I went for the UK28, the larger of the two sizes in the chart. There was a sort of rational behind selecting this size. Most of the dresses I have labelled 26/28 fit reasonably well. The corset from previous wear took me in somewhat, not that much as I didn’t have anyone with their knee in my back shouting at me to breathe in one last time.

[Ed: You still haven’t secured those hooks to the cellar wall.]
No I haven’t because I need to find a place which I can get to and pull away from, also it must be hide-able so that I don’t get asked silly questions from you know who!
Also without that knee in my back, I wasn’t quite sure if the corset wouldn’t take up more space than save, it was no way thin. As the waist difference was only 2 inches between a 26 and 28 I hoped that I could, if necessary, reduce any slack of the dress by adjusting the lacing at the back. And finally as I have a panic of buying dresses too small and having in the past a few buys to support this, I thought a bit bigger as the best bet.
So I selected UK28 from the menu and calmly as I could clicked the order button. As the Amazon bot took my order and processed it realised the address was not in the UK and promptly raised the P&P to half the cost of the dress. I was not that surprised, and at that moment I really couldn’t have cared less. I was more occupied with repeating a mantra ‘..you have just ordered a prom dress..’ throwing in the word ‘pink’ every now and then.
 
I couldn't really believe what I had done. I sat there with different emotions flooding me: foolishness, embarrassment, amazement, anticipation. All this with a continuous bubbling going on in the background, I think it was giggling.

As we are going to have to wait for the dress to arrive
I think this would be a convenient time to take a break. Bear with me please..
Part two and three will follow shortly. I hope it will be only three parts.
[Ed: I will see to it that there are only three parts!]
Now there was something else...
Oh yes!
Where’s my bickies???

A day ‘in’ shopping

little recap, I buy all my girl clothes exclusively by the global store called On-Line Inc. That is except for rare occasions in the pre–on-line era where I would pluck up my courage and buy stockings / pantyhose and sometimes lipsticks in stores a long way from home.

On-Line buying started early ‘14 as I got to grips with social networking and creating avatar-ic like e-mail accounts. I soon realised I could send all my purchases to work, drive home with them in the boot of the car, and when the coast was clear smuggle them into the house and down into the cellar.
Well until the end of last year that is, but more on that later.

When I started buying On-Line ..

[Ed: Please note dear reader that when she talks about ‘On-Line’ this is only to do with shopping exclusively for ‘her’ and not ‘him’. He goes way back and was quite active, that is until madam licked blood and changed his passwords.]

.. Amazon was the only site I had an account for. In the early days I was rather reluctant to flash my credit card and details about with other stores. I use to browse the on-line shopping stores quite regularly, mostly at work and of course only in my ‘spare time’. Later I branched out and added some high street stores which had larger collections in my size with reasonable prices.

You can pay the earth for some very lovely dresses but I would only be wearing them in the confinements of the house, so I held back. With shoes I’m glad I have a size that limits me in buying lots of them. For quick browsing on my dedicated ‘Abi-iPad’ I have search profiles bookmarked for various stores like Newlook (mainly for shoes) and Zalando, ASOS, Navabi for clothes.
 
 With Amazon I try and restrict myself to prime. That is selling and post & packaging and not just where Amazon carries out p&p logistics. With prime any mishaps that occurred I got all my money back. You pay a little extra up front on the article but it's worth it in the long run and up a relative low limit the p&p is free...

[Ed: Free? There is no such thing as ‘free’. How often do you browse like mad looking for articles to top up the shopping basket to save on p&p and end up way over the limit?]

Ok, yes I do ‘top up’ as you say, usually with something from the makeup counter, a lipstick then a polish to match and then look for earrings that match then .. ok, point taken .. 
As said I stick to Amazon Prime as far as possible and try to steer clear from Amazon’s market place due a number of ‘problems’ in the past. If I do find something that looks like a bargain, then there are a few things I look at and out for before hitting the buy button. 
Such as:
The amount of p&p.
You're probably not going to get back the p&p if the article has to go back for whatever reason. From my experience you’re going to get lumbered with the return costs as well.

For example, I bought a pair of Andres Machado heels via Amazon. The shoe price was reasonable and also the p&p. It looked like they would come direct from an outlet of the manufacturer so I saw no problem with ordering. I have a few pairs from them that fit well and are quite walkable. This pair was in my size and the style more sandal like than the others and as I hadn’t any sandals at that time I went for it.

Well, I couldn’t get them on let alone stand and walk in them! The model was either labelled wrong or someone had a bad day when designing them.
I decided to send them back. On printing the return label I saw that the return address was the HQ of the manufacturer in Spain! I got my money back for the shoes but not the p&p when buying and the return p&p costs. The result, the total p&p was almost the price of the shoes! I had in effect paid for them in shipment costs but didn’t have them to even look at let alone wear!

Seller location and their review profile history.

The location of the seller can be decisive (as in the return above!). Always check where they are. Sometimes you need to put the article in your basket before the correct link of the seller appears. China usually means long waiting times (if not forever). A problem in general with far eastern manufactures, when looking at the reviewer’s complaints, is the size discrepancies. Here you can forget the so called international standard conversion charts (you can usually forget them anyway!). The label sizes they give are often at least two sizes too small for westerner wearers. That’s ok for people in mid-range sizes who read the reviews, they know they can compensate for this when buying, but for a big girl like me that means I end up way off the scale and a frustrating no go! 

Having said that I did once order a Chinese product. This was a waist clincher. I decided to apply Abi logic to this: If the Chinese sizes are always too small and the clinchers job is to squeeze and give the appearance of a smaller size then there is a good chance it should fit and I can still breathe! And as it was only £6 I ordered it. 

Well eventually it did arrive and going by the state the package it looked like it had been half way around the world.
Which on reflection it had..

I totally forgot I had ordered it until I received an email in Chinese via Amazon. I could see from the layout it was flight information as there were times in 24 hour format and international 3 letter airport codes for Frankfurt and Beijing sprinkled in between the pictograms. As my Cantonese was nowhere in sight I threw it at the Google translator. It was only informing me about the future arrival of the clincher in Germany and not as I suspected that I had to go to Frankfurt to pick it up. After sitting around in customs gathering dust for 3 weeks someone eventually decided to clear their desk and it ended up on my desk a week later. The package was a mess, dirty with grime and a sprinkling of Frankfurter customs dust...

[Ed: How can you be certain about the dust coming from Frankfurt? Did you have the package analysed?]

No my dear Watson I did not. The grime was all over the package, even my address, but not over the customs label and stamp. Therefore the grime was before Frankfurt. The dust covered the complete package stuck mostly to the grime but still present on the customs label.
Therefore the dust was of German origin not Chinese. The journey times I took from the partly readable smears on the tattered sad looking object.
Ok?

[Ed: Yes, I suppose, totally unnecessary that last analytical bit but it’s not my blog. By the way I should remind you that you wanted to report on buying a pink prom dress, but you’ve gone off, as is your wont, at a tangent before getting round to it.]

Yes your right, almost forgot about why I started this post. Maybe more about this next time. What thinks you?

[Ed: Me thinks as I said, it’s your blog. I don’t think you needed to plug the ‘Pee Pee Dee’ here so that someone will read the next post. Anyway the title will have the words ‘Pink’, ‘Prom’ and ‘Dress’ in it and that should be enough to get people interested.] 
 
Yes, and some candid snap shots as well…

[Ed: Pictures! Now as your editor I’m not sure …]

Let’s get on please! You can look through the numerous bad quality shots I took, while I will end here with one last antidote and then I’ll dedicate myself to the task of trying to analyse why I bought the ‘PPD’ as you call it, in the first place and the trouble I had. So for now one last story from a online shopping junkie..

Article 'very cheap' plus p&p ‘on the high side’ could = a scam.

Again shoes and Amazon market place with a slightly different outcome. I found a nice pair of heels, this time on Amazon UK. As it was UK I usually check first to see if they are offering them here in Germany which would save exchange rates (£2€) and usually some p&p. Well I couldn’t find them so I went back to the UK site. P&p was a bit high but combined with the low price of the shoes result reasonable. I ordered and they arrived two days later which I thought was pretty quick for the UK.

So far so good.

I opened and checked the invoice, the company name was the same as on the web but the address was from a town only a 30 minute drive from my office! I checked the postage and read off 4.50€ and not the £15 postage I had paid up front! If that was not bad enough the shoes were labelled 2 sizes smaller than I had ordered and were way too small!

I sniffed fowl play!

All manner of scenarios went through my head each one adding to my raised blood pressure. They ranged from; so sorry it was totally unintentional and will be cleared up in no time, that’s your problem matey not mine! Up to organised shoe criminality on an international scale. After I had calmed down a bit I rang the owner directly instead of opening email communication via Amazon. Steering clear of the p&p differences I hit the German seller (in English of course) with the wrong size problem. He was apologetic and asked me to return the shoes and of course I would get my money back. The return costs were nothing like the original p&p.

Again so far so good, I would get something back at least.

Now what? Would this be just the shoe money or everything? At this stage the question was while still on the phone do I mention the p&p? Maybe it would be included but I wasn’t sure. I decided to leave it. If the p&p was not included I would ring again and give him an ear full along the lines of as he had sent the wrong shoes it was his fault not mine and therefore I should get all the p&p back including the return costs.
Well as I suspected only the money for the shoes was returned.
After a couple of calls and some hints to why the size could have been ‘incorrect’, the seller saw the errors of his ways and in the end I got everything back. Maybe finding out I was ‘just round the corner’ may have had something to do with it.
The hint I made with the ‘incorrect’ size was that before calling again I found in the net that this model was not made in the size the seller had advertised!
Now how much was a scam or just incompetence I will not like to say. It’s interesting that the seller was only advertising certain shoes in extra-large sizes in the UK and not here in Germany. Either he thought the Brits all had big feet or speculated that maybe someone in the UK would be reluctant to contact a German based seller about declamations.

[Ed: I hope you’re keeping track of that ‘later’ at the beginning because I’m certainly not!].

Your right, a lot happened in the second half of 2016 that has kept me away from posting. I finally go round to selling the companies and hit retirement at the end of the year. It sounds like the work should have eased off and more free time as the year came to an end, but just the opposite I was working like mad up to midnight on my last day (looking back I’m not sure why, but I was!).
I turned off my computer and listened, nothing, I was all alone. I left the building and locked up as usual as if I would be back the next day. Pretty weird I must say when you come to realise with a mild surprise that a major phase of your life has ended and a less hectic and stressful phase is about to begin. Well now after a month at home I have the feeling I have less time than before!
I think I will need to collect more data to support this or not, will report.

Retirement has had consequences also for my stash. It means I don’t have a ‘post box’ for Abi’s clothes & Co to be sent to any more. My company was not only the arrival area but also the try out and send back area if on the rare occasions the item didn’t fit.

As I mentioned in past posts I could use the long corridor evenings as a catwalk to ‘break in’ my heels while at the same time trying not to break an ankle. Well that’s all over, no more evening wobbly walks.
And no more listening out for approaching staff while trying on dresses and shape wear in a cramped cubicle in the rest room.

[Ed: Are you going to miss it all?]

Yes, I think I really will.

Her Stash and Me

ome of you may have caught on from my previous posts that I have my Stash in the cellar. It’s not really hidden (difficult with the volume it takes up, especially the shoes) but is sprinkled between the chaos that is indirect a smoke screen for MrsA as well as the normal chaos that reigns in our cellar. 

This chaos makes it difficult to find something at the best of times and in general it’s not advisable to put a unprotected hand in a box or case without peering in before(-the-)hand, something just might bite back. I won’t say it has Indiana Jones mantraps, or woman traps for that matter, it’s just dangerous if one is not experienced with the landscape, pitfalls… ok traps.  
Wanting to go into the cellar and explore usually means advanced terrain training, a backpack and extensive blood tests upfront.

I will mention again that MrsA is completely in the dark about Abigale. Well, let’s say as far as I can tell that is. We have been together over 40 years and although it’s no guarantee, I think I would have got the vibes about it if she knew. This means I have very little time to dress and become one with the rest of me and enjoy it. 

On the rare occasions I am alone at home, it’s not more that about 4 hours. With a 4 hour stint I try and limit dressing activities to about 2 hours or so, allowing the rest as a ‘Surprise I’m home!’ safety window to follow. This activity window is just not enough time to get completely dressed and un-dressed, the whole works. 
For a boy yes, for a girl with my experience definitely no! Unless, that is, I restrict my activities to one or maybe two aspects of getting ready and then unready. For example the last stint was focused on trying to create a passable bust and cleavage.
 
[Ed: more in a separate post with pictures]
 
I’m quite spontaneous in things I do around the home, usually to the dismay of MrsA, especialy when it comes to clearing up. Something can start off as harmless that ends up as a major (re)construction project. When we were living in an apartment, I got it in my bonnet one year to clear up a 'few things' in the living room late one Sunday. After MrsA had gone to bed in total frustration at 1 in the morning, I was still in full swing rearranging the complete livingroom furniture, just about everything that wasn't nailed down!
[Ed: Moving the piano around the living room after midnight goes down so well with the neighbours living downstairs..]
Very true, especially when the neighbour just happens to be your landlord! 

Another time I took it into my head to spontaneously wallpaper the kitchen on New Year’s Eve with a snowstorm ranging outside. As we could not completely open the window after finishing to remove the almost tropical humid air, we decided to leave it a jar with the kitchen door closed. Bushwhacked we retired for what was left of the night. While slumbering, the temperature dropped dramatically and the window decided to get some freash air. The next morning on entering I went skating across the now ice and snow ladened floor landing in a pile of pots and pans. 

Well in this vain, late one Friday evening I decided to start to clear out the cellar and not just half heartily as for the last few years. Firstly because I just couldn’t stand the mess anymore and secondary I wanted to make space for an Abigale session on the Sunday morning as MrsA had a rehearsal meaning a maximum time slot was on the cards. Well of course it’s easier said than done especially after years of neglect (clearing out not dressing).
You may know the situation: move bits and pieces from A to B, then weeks/months later from B to C, then years/eons later Surprise! One finds the pieces and bits (in a different order) have migrated back to location A of their own accord! 
Well this time I wanted to breakout of this circulus vitiosus and really get things moving direction rubbish tip. So my strategy was to go blindly in and without any real plan just grab and throw.
At first it was like an adrenalin kick, an act of freedom, a weight off .. off something or other. Totally banal things like two dozen power cables from equipment long gone, boxes of indefineable thingamajigs, 386 CPUs, non-recyclable Christmas presents because we forgot to label them with the name of the giver, empty picture frames needing something or someone to frame, round-pined British plugs (in two sizes), heaps of odd chopsticks enough to play Mikado with, bits of IKEA leftovers following an ‘IKEA construction party’ ...
[Ed: IKEA construction party?]
You know.  
Invite all your friends over, give them either a screwdriver or a hammer and leave sets of Alan/Hex keys at strategic locations. Pin the instructions to the wall and while they are distracted - half of them wondering why they need a screwdriver and the other half banging like mad weird looking bolts in ill aligned holes - you leave for the pub and hope they are finished before last orders.

While sorting some of the things brought up the questions 'where in **** did that come from?' or 'Did I buy this? I certainly don’t remember!'. After a time my good intentions started to wane, I could feel myself physically holding back just before letting go and the delay was increasing. 

I try before a clear out session to enter the state of Mushin (no-mind) in preparing to ban any gremlins that may appear like 
‘you know you need to keep this .. this whatever it is’ …
‘you know it may come in handy someday, even if it’s still in the original packing crate from the last move 25 years ago’ …
‘you know if you throw it today, you will find a use for it tomorrow’ … etc. 

Are these thoughts ingrain or are they brought on by being bitten by a hording bug? 

Anyway the point is, when I start such a 'session' I must keep going until I drop or get told off, whatever comes first. As I didn't get told off (Mrs.A was glad I was out of the way, she knew where I was and that I could only get up to limited mischief) and even though I had slowed down in banning bits to the bin, the place was chaos pure by late Saturday evening. 

Sunday morning came and my ‘Abi alone at home’ slot was imminent. I usually try and offer to drive MrsA back and forth to the rehearsals so I can ‘control’ the begin and end of a slot. This allows me the maximum out of it before I get the ‘come and get me’ call. 
Doesn’t always work, as on this morning. Mrs.A wouldn’t have it, she thought she was doing me a favour and had arranged for one of the cast to pick her up. 

I usually get worked up when I know a session is coming. Thinking about what I want to wear and when the time comes trying franticly to find it in my stash boxes. After she left, I went down to the cellar and entered. 
The chaos hit me like a wave, just no space available to really girl it. 
I backed out headed for the kitchen and made myself a cuppa. On looking at the clock I sighed and decided to take my time and just catalogue my stash instead, it was about time to take stock anyway. 
I realised that I had just lost track of things. This is not surprising as some items only see the light of day while unpacking at work and when possible after smuggling them home into the cellar to be stashed. 

I’ll backtrack a little and tell you about my modus operandi when buying stuff for Abi. 
[Ed: She’s off at a tangent again! Watch that your tea doesn’t get cold!]
Ok.
 

Apart from over the counter a few lipsticks and pantyhose in the distant past, I now exclusively order everything on-line. I am envious of all you girls that can go out and buy in whatever mode you are, I just cannot do that. There are a number of reasons and not just shyness, but more on this another time. Buying on-line without having the opportunity to try it on first does bring its problems. 
My first hurdle was finding out what woman’s sizes I was, head to toe. Ok, there are sites that help to get a girl going and ‘conversion’ charts with bust-waist-hip measurements as a guide, but they are ‘only’ a guide. As with most clothing, male or female, the acid test is when trying it on. This means for me after unpacking and a seldom Abi session. 
As I mentioned I have everything sent to my work address, never home. MrsA would catch on quick enough with either asking outright what was in the parcel or from reading the tell-tale labels on them. 
With the stream of parcels arriving at work over the last couple of years from Amazon, Otto, NewLook, etc., I let it be known that I was the central hub for the collective buying craze of my family and friends. Why me and at work? Well the excuse was because there is always someone to open the door on weekdays 07:00 to 19:00 and take in parcels. This is in part true, only I’m the main culprit with buying for Abi and some non Abi stuff for home! 

I’m not that happy with NewLook’s packaging, they stick a short version of the invoice on the outside listing the contents so every nosy person can see what’s within (pic after removal). 
Luckily they don’t put the size on the outside, only with the invoice inside, otherwise the cat would be out of the bag as most of the staff know MrsA and can put two and two together and come up with something other than four... 

With Amazon I usually try to combine things, for example a book or DVD and an Abi garment, make up, wigs etc. My last combi package was a white satin corset and a book (The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage by Sydney Padua). I then unpack the book/DVD (leaving the Abi item in the box) and display it on my desk for anyone who is interested. Any Abi garments I would try on in the restroom when everyone had gone home. 
This works surprisingly well, after a time my regular parcel intake became routine and less interesting to the rest of the staff. It got to the point that any Amazon parcels automatically landed on my desk even if they weren’t for me! 
One time I just happened to be at the front desk when a parcel arrived. As I was signing for it, the courier realised it was for me. He was overjoyed that at last he could thank me personally in the name of himself, wife and kids for helping to keep him employed over the last year! I was a little taken back and thought he was taking the mickey, but I couldn’t see this from his face, he just smiled, I reciprocated, he turned and left leaving me wondering what that was all about. 
I know I buy a lot of stuff, but keeping courier families above the breadline is carrying it bit far!

With Amazon & Co they use plastic bags for clothes which is not a problem, but with NewLook (UK), they use them for heels (I forgot to say, the bag above has my latest heels (3 pairs) they arrived today!). This has lead more than once to the heels of the shoes working their way through their own packaging and out through the outer bag! I usually order 3 or more pairs at once, so I get the P&P free.
 
[Ed: well that’s her excuse!]
 

One day I got back from lunch and found my latest order on my desk. As I picked the bag up and turned it over there were two holes each with a high heel poking through! One was a 4 inch black stiletto (left) and the other, a 6 inch beige (right) with the hole large enough to see the whole heel, it’s a wonder the order survived the transport! 
If the person who put the bag on my desk had ‘manhandled’ the bag a while (there was enough time from the front desk to my office) and took a peek into the larger hole they would realise the shoes where not for small feet (e.g. MrsA). If the penny has dropped in the office I have had no hints. Knowing my staff if they got wind of my collection they would probably want a demonstration on an improvised catwalk! 

When an ‘Abi-order’ arrives I usually can’t concentrate that well on my work. I end up waiting for the day to end and hoping all the staff get off home on time, so I can try on the garment or heels. Sometimes one or two of them work late as they have to prepare for being on the road or in the air the next day. I then have to weigh up either holding out till the office is empty or going home with or without my ‘prizes’ and hope for better luck the next day. 

If I get impatient I can usually smuggle small items into the restroom cubical and try them on, hoping I’ve picked the right size. If they don’t fit I can then repackage and bring it to the post or collection point the next day. 
Shoes are more difficult to smuggle but when I do I can try them on for ‘fitness’, but the real test is to try and walk in them and not just stand around wobbling about or not. In this case I would leave them at work until a free evening to walk them ‘in’ on the offices’ 45 meter long corridor and wear them at my desk working late into the night.
 
[Ed: Working late? You mean either hanging out, pinning pins or writing your posts all with your heeled feet up on the desk!]
A girl has to have fun now and then… 

So after trying out the clothes and shoes it’s either repacking the items for sending back, rare but has happened. Or working out how to smuggle the new arrivals all at once, or in stages, home to the ‘safety’ of the cellar. This is not always easy to manage; sometimes the item(s) would have to stay in the car boot until I got the opportunity allowing me to make a ‘dash with my new stash’. 

And so after coming full circle we are now back in the cellar and my tea is cold ...
 
[Ed: I told you! I’ll go upstairs and brew a new pot; you get on with cataloguing]
 
Ok, so where to start?
Well, I decided to close my eyes and with a sweep of my arms I cleared a table ignoring the clatter of indefinable objects as they hit the floor. Luck was on my side no shattering of broken glass. 

I have 4 medium sized (18”x18”x12”) (audio monitor boxes from my studio) for clothes and 2 classical plastic storage boxes (20”x16”x8”) where I store makeup and wigs and about half of my heels. The rest of my heels have their own individual boxes (see right. For a full catalogue with pictures check out under the sidebar 'Side Show' ‘My Heel Collection’).

I would rather have all my heels each to their own box, but that’s not practical, I’ve reached a critical point where anymore ‘shoe’ boxes turning up would bring them onto MrsA’s radar. The ones in boxes take up quite a lot of space but are much better than in plastic bags stuffed all together. 
I have from work ex-envelope boxes that are ideal for high heels which need almost square shaped boxes compared to heel-less flats (see above and left).

Some of the heels as with my Dorothy Perkins came in their own boxes (see right). Of course clear storage boxes would be better for each pair. Or the ultimate storage; a dedicated wardrobe unit for them in full display all in rows! And all my dresses hanging as they should be in easy reach..
 
[Ed: Ok, ok keep your wig on! There is very little chance that this will happen as you know.]
Yes true, it’s a lovely dream though.

Here some of my heel boxes stacked to be stashed.
So I took the first storage box and systematically started to rummage. I sorted under-wear and shape-wear from the over-wear. Colours together if I could and packed it all under pressure again back into the boxes but with method (the creases ugh!).
With the heels I checked each box for content and noted the relocation co-ordinates. I didn’t mark them in any way with content just in case they got exposed to MrsA eagle eye. Even just numbering them was not on. I think I am a little paranoid with this.

RFID tagging came to mind as Sheldon does with his socks, but that was too much of a hassle, I have other high tech gadgets to play with. After packing everything again I reluctantly pushed the storage and shoe boxes even higher and deeper into the darker regions of the cellar and barricaded it all in with heavy almost unmovable objects. The shoes that came in their own boxes (see the two red ones at the top of the stack in the picture) I stashed right at the back.

This means in future it will take longer to get to anything than it did before, even though I now know roughly where to look. Maybe it’s just frustration or due to something deeper. Maybe clearing up = less chaos = more chance of MrsA coming across something. I must say it is all rather depressing, this secrecy whittles away at one. 
As the stuff I buy is quickly sold out, I usually backup a picture of the item from the on-line store so I know what and where I bought them. Not for cosmetics of course, they don’t normally have a ‘size’ that would go out of stock within days. As I had the opportunity, I took pictures of the heels which I could not find again in the net (see collection). 

It was high time to ‘get it all out’ and at least look and handle it all again and of course get mega frustrated about not having the chance to really wear it for longer than an hour or so, if that.

Well the couple of hours went by quickly and I was just finished storing the pictures I took to file, when the front door opened and MrsA was home.
I am now up to-date on what I have hidden away. Interesting that there were few surprises, which surprised me as I just can’t for the life of me remember what boy clothes I have and I open the wardrobe daily!


It looks like I have a different relationship to my girl clothes than my boys.

Well the cellar is still in chaos mode, will slowly make room to be able to walk in a straight line in my heels instead of the slalom I have at the moment. 

I was going to list my stash here, but thought it would be better, as mentioned above, I have put a page under my ‘Side Show’ area for the heel collection with pictures, stats and a comment.
[Ed: What about the rest of your wardrobe?]
I might get round to making a separate short list under ‘Clothes & Co.’ for the rest when I have time. 
But for now it's grab a pair of my new heels, see if the coast is clear and make a dash for the restroom..