Surrey Swans and what Laura did

There was a Surrey Swans meeting last Sunday (October 28th).

I enjoyed the evening a lot. Here I am with Laura. You can just see Emma in the background.

There are some more pictures on the Surrey Swans blog page here.

During the evening I chatted a while with Laura, who recounted this tale of recent events:

I (that is Laura) was hanging out some washing outside my flat. Dressed in an unusually short skirt, stockings and heels, amongst other things.

Whilst doing this I heard someone putting some rubbish in the bin, just round the corner out of sight.

I thought nothing of it until I got to the communal back door. Whoever had been emptying the rubbish had found the door open and not noticing me hanging out the washing had closed the door and bolted it.

There I was. A shorter than usual skirt, heels, stockings and things.

And I couldn’t get in.

Gulp.

I (Andrea) am not sure how unusually short the skirt was. But, in the circumstances, I might well have gulped a little as well. As it was, the thought just made me smile.

“I looked up at the fence round the back yard”, she told me.

“How high is it … maybe 5 feet?” I asked.

“It’s taller than me, even in heels” says Laura. “Well above my head.”

That might make it almost 7 feet tall.

“I thought about climbing over it” says she.

“That would be a sight worth vide-recording” says I, thinking of the sight of Laura in a shorter than usual skirt, stockings and heels climbing a 7 feet high fence.

“But then, I spotted a guy at the window of one of the flats and signalled him and asked him if he could let me in. And he did.”

And so Laura managed to get back in again without climbing any fences at all.

The moral of the story is, of course:

if you see a door that is left open …

and if you decide to close it and bolt it without checking if anyone is going to be locked out …

then please let me (Andrea) know so that I can get out the video recorder and capture the moment of anyone in an unusually short skirt, stockings and heels that is attempting to climb over a 7 feet high fence

Thanks for sharing the story Laura … the thought still makes me smile

Oh … and hello Elina. You know who you are and you are a sweetie!

Another trip to Windsor

Saturday December 12th. Sally wakes me at about 8:45 as she sets off to play in a golf match.

Coffee, shower, shave, underwear, makeup and clothing.

Billie arrives at round about 11:00 and we set off for a trip out to Windsor.

Driving into town I’m struck by how thoughts, feelings and fears change as time passes.

Once, not so very long ago, driving around as Andrea in the daylight was a very self-conspicuous kind of thing to do. These days it feels comfortable.

After parking, the first port of call is the Post Office. Last week I ordered some computer memory for a friend and no one was home to sign for it when it arrived on Friday.

Of course, the man at the post office needed to see ID. The picture on the card is kinda fuzzy – but the hair definitely looks a lot different than Andrea’s hair. But he asks no questions and doesn’t look horrified.

Wandering along Peascod Street we call in at Fenwick’s. In the window there is a sign advertising “Pricilla Queen of the Desert”. Makes us feel at home, if somewhat underdressed for the occasion.

Lunch at Cafe Rouge. As always it’s a relaxed affair. The waiter brings food – but a little mixed up gives us the food destined for the people on the next table. The plates get passed across with a few smiles. Again, no looks of horror, or even especially of surprise. No one in the restaurant pays us much attention at all even allowing for our “deep” voices.

The restaurant manager says it’s nice to see us again as he passes by.

I have a shopping list from Sally and so buy some Christmas cards at the British Heart Foundation shop and some more at the Oxfam shop. Two nice glass bead bracelets from the Cancer Research shop (bracelets weren’t actually on the list … but well … I like them).

Then a short walk to Marks and Spencer’s for some food – this was on the list.

The people that I pay tills all say hello and don’t worry at all at the way I look or my rather low pitched voice.

I resolve to leave hold up stockings off my own shopping lists in the future. My legs don’t seem to be sticky enough. Stockings and suspender belt or tights from now on.

Stockings, suspender belts, holdups, tights and Nora Batty

Stockings and suspenders, holdups or tights. What should I wear?

This kind of question sometimes distracts my mind from the worries of financial crises, corruption in politics and a host of other important questions.

There are times when the selection of appropriate leg-wear is an important issue.

Stockings and suspenders are my favourite choice. By a long way. For myself as well as on other people. This preference has, I know, roots in the days when the occasional pair of stockings was pretty much my only experience of feminine attire.

There is something nice about rolling stockings up over freshly shaven legs. It feels so very … well … feminine. And yes, I know. Tthe way that stockings and femininity are so closely linked together in my mind may be more a reflection of the state of my mind than of the real world.

There are downsides though.

Fastening stockings to suspender belts can sometimes drive me to distraction. Especially the strap at the back right. For some reason this has a tendency to be infuriatingly more difficult than all the rest. Scratched nail polish. Broken finger nails. I have to stop and slowly count to 10. Short skirts can be a problem as well. I mean … depending on where a girl is going it is sometimes advisable to be showing no more than the odd glimpse of a stocking top.

And also … it is most inconvenient to have a suspender fastening pop undone part way through an evening. Although, this can be quite entertaining. Laura, Nikki and myself had a very pleasant giggle watching Sonya refastening Billie’s stockings at Pink Punters last year. In fact, I think all three of us were silently hoping for an un-popping experience of our own.

Tights on the other hand … or perhaps that should be on the other leg … tights are practical. They work fine with really really really short skirts and dresses. But somehow they don’t seem so feminine as stockings. I know, I know … my mind is twisted. It is definitely true though, going to spend a penny (this is a British euphemism for going for a pee … and I am old enough to know where the phrase came from) is much more laborious when wearing tights than stockings.

Hold ups. These are great … so long as they hold up. I remember buying a basque at Anne Summers once and the lady at the shop suggesting that rather than just getting stockings … hold ups would give added protection against an un-popping. Well – this depends on the holdups. Some of them have a habit of becoming slide-downs.

Primark used to sell some very nice holdups. The large size went all the way to the tops of my legs and they never slid down at all.

Alas, no longer. They have been replaced by a newer, shorter version that slips and slides. A couple of weeks ago I was at home wearing a pair of these and part way through the evening Sally said she wasn’t so sure about the Nora Batty look that I had acquired. For anyone that doesn’t know Nora … here she is:

 

Of course … Wikipedia says more (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Recurring_characters_in_Last_of_the_Summer_Wine#Nora_Batty)

I don’t think that Nora ever bought holdups from Primark … but you never know.

Either way … Primark is no longer a purveyor of holdup stocking to me.

Holdups and suspender belts are tricky though. Getting the elasticated tops through the suspender belt eyes is seriously hard work. Not for the feint hearted or for anyone wearing nail polish that isn’t tough as diamonds.

After careful research … I asked Laura where she got hers from last week … BHS, of all places, is the place to be for both stockings and holdups. And after popping along there at the weekend I agree.