The Devil Wears Court Shoes
Published 1 year, 5 months ago in My life.I went to a catholic girls school and in year eleven, as part of our religious instruction, we were required to attend something called “Marriage Encounters”. This involved going to the house of a married catholic couple, along with a group of boys from our catholic brother school, and encountering their marriage. It sounds kind of mad now, but at the time we catholic girls were being groomed first and foremost as wives and mothers, so I guess it was not a terrible idea in the scheme of things. I suppose too, that encountering a good example of a marriage, catholic or otherwise, is never a bad thing.
However, at 16 most of us were far more interested in encountering the opposite sex and given our fairly sheltered schooling, such encounters were few and far between.
The sessions were held once a week in the evenings and we girls made the most of this social opportunity. We took the utmost care in our appearance and tried our very best to make a good impression on the boys, for these fellows were our best chance at getting a partner for the school Ball later in the year.
The first session (and ultimately the most important, for first impressions are everything) I remember vividly. I wore a red polo neck jumper, a grey, wool, knee-length, pleated skirt, black tights with black court shoes and I recall thinking that I cut a very stylish figure.
We were seated in a circle for the business part of the evening, girls one half, boys the other and I remember desperately adhering to lessons learned in grooming and deportment. Hands demurely in lap, legs modestly crossed one over the other, a slight but intelligent inclination of the head. Surely one could be forgiven a little nervous jiggling of a black court shoe.
I soon realised that I had become the object of some attention from the opposite side of the circle; repeated glances, a smile here and there, a whisper and a nod. I sat a little straighter, clearly my dynamite outfit and my aura of demure charm was paying off.
Some time later supper was served, it was a chance to mingle freely and socialise a little. I stood to one side, trying to look, beautiful, attentive, intelligent, desirable and above all, available to potential Ball partners.
I did not have long to wait as one of the more attractive chaps approached. I couldn’t believe my luck, I was going to be the first girl in my year to secure a date for the Ball.
“Hi” he said, grinning at me.
“Hi” I returned with a flutter and a charming girlish giggle.
“Ummmm” he said
“Yes?” I replied
“There’s something written on your shoes” he said.
“What?”
“Your shoes. There is something written on the bottom of them” he said, smothering a laugh.
Confused, I removed a shoe and turned it over. There was indeed something written on the bottom of them - in thick, black artline pen and my brother’s handwriting.
“SATAN’S SHOES”.
I had committed the ultimate catholic faux pas; wearing shoes belonging to the Prince Of Darkness.
Thanks to my brother I never did secure a partner for the Ball and have carried the social scar ever since. I have also lived in a moderate amount of fear that Satan is going to show up one of these days - demanding his shoes back.
10 Responses to “The Devil Wears Court Shoes”
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What a great story to start a Saturday with!
I can tackle my weekend domestic duties with a smile on my face and a chuckle evey time I recall your tale through out the day, thanks gold
Have you thought about writing a book.
He’s after your “soul”
Good giggle goldie, but, um, erh, arh, i have always written on the outside of the souls of my shoes.
No big secret, L on one, and R on the other.
cheerio
shadowmaster
I just remembered, when I was a kid, at a cousins wedding someone had written HELP across the grooms shoes. Poor things had no idea why everyone started giggling when they knelt at the altar.
Golden, I too have had the twin pleasures of a Catholic convent school education and of brothers - though never did the two experiences collide with such hilarity! My brothers, especially the older of the two, enjoyed humiliating, insulting and deriding me - as often as possible in a public forum. Our school education embraced the idea of co-ed activities only for musicals, sweaty-palmed dance classes and, in year 12, a memorable retreat that began with girls and boys lined against opposite walls as though preparing for combat and ended with many boys caught sneaking in to our sleeping quarters! I will regale my brothers with the satan’s shoes anecdote in the feeble hope that they will feel they in fact failed to scar me adequately during my sensitive teenage years. Thank you for sharing. LOL
Viva - am getting married in September - will give my shoes a thorough going over before the ceremony.
Very good Brian!
Shadow - I once saw a little boy wearing shoes with left and right on them, but he had them on the wrong feet. I recommend you have a backup system.
Gadfly - the old Catholic convent schools! Mine wasn’t a bad school as schools go, but looking back they did have some unusual methods. I once had to spend an entire morning writing an essay on “Why I would like to be a Nun”. I didn’t want to be a nun, so my essay was read out to the class and all my reasons were systematically gunned down by the school principal. (Who happened to be a nun). It was fairly aggressive recruiting, however I’m not sure they were all that successful.
Wonderful story! XD that’s hilarious.
I’m sure Indi that you got your brother back double ???? And as for the wedding shoes………..velcro dots.!!! Kath and kim style.!!
It’s different… it’s unusual….
Hey goldie, i always have a back up system / back door escape plan.
See what happens in the event of a coo de tar in the Village Administration.
he he he
cheerio
shadowmaster