Red Shoes


You’re not having red shoes
In the shop Mum was cross
Please, Mum, they’re gorgeous
Red shoes no knickers, Mum’s mantra
Look, the heels aren’t that high,
I could dance all night in those
Oh, no you won’t – you’ll be back by ten.
Does that mean you’ll buy them then ?
We’ll see.  Try them on.

Comes next Friday, excited
twirling this way and that
in front of the mirror.
First bra, first nylons
sticky-out petticoat
swirly circular skirt
frilly blouse, waspie belt all the rage.
And those shoes …

Dad takes one look and hits the roof
What were you thinking?
She’s only fourteen
Out of the question to go out like that.
But Daaaad …
For once on my side, Mum sticks it out
She’s only young once
let her go.

So I did,
at the school Christmas hop
had a breathtaking time
as I danced with a prefect
the new cricket captain,
red shoes danced all the way home
on cloud nine.


This is a re-blog from way back in response to Irene at Red Wolf  Journal who asked for a poem mentioning footwear.  The poem was originally written for Annell Livingstone’s book, Red Shoes.


All poetry, prose and pictures posted here, except where otherwise stated, is my own, and may only be used elsewhere with my expressed permission. Please don't be inhibited from correcting my bloopers and making suggestions: Most of what I post here is instant, ill-considered and off-the-cuff, in serious need of editing.
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10 Responses to Red Shoes

  1. This is wonderful, Viv! I could feel your enthusiasm, and love your outfit. The prefect had you swooning. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. tialys says:

    It’s funny – I always remember certain shoes just as fondly as the clothes that went with them despite the fact that I often used to have to take them off on the way back to my friend’s house after we’d spent the night dancing and walk the rest of the way barefoot or shredding my tights.
    This is the sort of poem you write that I enjoy best Viv. They seem to give such an insight into your personality and a tantalising glimpse of your personal history.


  3. katechiconi says:

    Lovely poem, lucky Viv! I always had very wide feet, and nothing pretty, pointy or fashionable either fit or produced dancing delight – quite the reverse. I had to glumly revert to ballet flats to which my extremely strict and conservative Pa could not possibly object…

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Mlissabeth says:

    What a wonderful story! I am reliving this again through my daughter.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. oh the bubbling hormones of youth. well do I remember those times – where did the years go.
    Hopefully cycling in Northumberland next weekend.

    Liked by 1 person

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