LF Heeler.

I got forwarded a text regarding a small catwalk modelling session in Manchester. It's nothing major, just someone looking for a few girls about my size, and I'm going to send back a couple of pictures. However the more I think about it the more nervous I am.

It isn't the job itself that bothers me nor the fact that if anything I'm actually rather under-proportion right now. What really bothers me about the whole thing is the possibility of heels.

I used to be excellent in heels, and have gotten far better recently, but given that I used to be able to dance in ones six inches high and now require some considerable amount of prior thought into getting up after picking something off the floor this could be a recipe for disaster. I'll wind up shambling along like a bad transvestite and falling into the front row.

Most men have not the slightest clue as to how difficult it actually is to learn how to be elegant in heels, and I'm not talking wedges, or sissy-ass kitten heels, I'm talking rapier thin stripper heels requiring the poise of a ballet dancer to avoid a broken ankle. I have a lot of these sort of shoes and am going to pray to all gods that they don't make me do that whole, "stalk stalk stalk look straight forward turn pose stalk back" or they'll be carrying a girl in a bridal gown into accident and emergency.

Fun Felidae Fact: I have never worn a wedding gown, but given that it's one of the three categories it would be fun to try...oh and it'll hide that I'm possibly going to insist I wear flats.