Confessions of a Kinky Divorcee by Lana Fox Read Free Book Online Page A

changed – they are forced to walk in a restricted style, which many found sexy. All the same, an argument can be made for empowerment where restriction is
truly
chosen and eventually overcome. We choose to restrict ourselves when we take on a stronger opponent in order to learn the art of boxing; or when we have a tattoo in order to express ourselves – a piece of art that may never be removed. Women who regularly wear high heels become adept at doing almost anything in them. And of course, considering a stiletto heel can make a fearful weapon, it makes no sense to say that all stiletto wearers are disempowered. In fact, the rise of the dominatrix archetype suggests the very opposite.’
    I was so inspired by what I was reading that I didn’t notice my phone was ringing. When I answered, it was Gladys. ‘I thought you were working tonight,’ I said.
    ‘I am, poppet, but I wanted to check in. Make sure you’re OK.’
    ‘I’m fine,’ I say. In the background, I hear the front door open and slam.
    ‘I didn’t mean to make fun of you being a bit gay and all that,’ says Gladys. ‘Felt awful about it afterwards. I mean, you came out to me – that’s a privilege, and I’d hate you to think –’
    ‘Came out!’ I cried, horrified. ‘I did not come out!’
    ‘Saying, “I have a crush on a woman” is coming out, pet, like it or not.’
    I open my mouth to say something, but I have no response, so I close it again, silent. At last, I say, ‘I didn’t think about it that way. But you’re right. And you don’t have to apologise, Glads. You were joking around. No harm.’
    Gladys gives a sigh of relief. ‘Well, good. Anyway, what you up to?’
    I tell her I’m reading this amazing book about the politics of the stiletto and she erupts in a fit of laughter. ‘Politics! That’s zany!’
    ‘What’s zany?’
    ‘They’re only shoes, love. They’re hardly going to start a revolution!’
    And she jokes like that for quite a while, until I’m fed up and have to say goodbye. Who made Gladys the bloody queen of academic study? Still embittered, I wander out of the living-room and almost bump into Janey. She’s wearing tracky bums and a tight, white T-shirt that says ‘Bless the Butch’ on the front. In one hand she’s holding a pair of green hand weights, and in the other she’s carrying some kind of green smoothie that looks depressingly like pondweed. ‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ I say.
    ‘That’s me,’ she says, all serious. ‘Always creeping around.’
    Thinking of the way I explored her buttocks while she was sleeping, I guiltily flush. ‘Actually,’ I say, in an attempt to change the topic, ‘I was just perusing your shoe book.’
    ‘Oh, yeah?’ she says. She smiles then – it’s always so welcome and unexpected, that sweet, blue-eyed sparkle. ‘What did you think?’ And she tips her head, so genuinely interested that all of a sudden I’m babbling on about restriction and empowerment, and how I see that all the time at the shop.
    ‘How so?’ she asks.
    I tell her about my drag queen who came in the other day. You’d never know Billie was a drag queen – stunning woman, she is – but she had a drag contest coming up, like she often does, and needed to look snazzy. ‘She says stuff like, “Shoes are the soul of me. Without them, I lack confidence and suddenly I’m worried about what everybody thinks.”’
    Janey nods. ‘Identity,’ she says.
    ‘Exactly!’ And I’m glowing inside, Kitten, because Janey understands me. Unlike Gladys, she knows that shoes are important.
    ‘Look,’ says Janey, shifting her weight and lowering her gaze. ‘I’m sorry about Lil the other night. She told me you caught her smoking on the step. I did tell her not to do that, but we’d had a fight.’
    ‘That’s OK,’ I said. ‘Everyone all right, though, love?’
    She sighs. ‘Oh, it’s fine. Love isn’t easy, is it?’ Her lovely blue eyes look so sad that I reach forward and touch