Having such big feet is a hindrance - to everything
There are certain body parts that people have no qualms about being above average in size.
As this is a family newspaper you don't need me to delve any deeper into what those body parts might be.
But let me assure you, ladies and gentleman, that feet is not one of them.
I have qualms – inexorable qualms – about the size of my feet.
The size, since you ask, is 13. Pretty big right? Well actually I don't need you to reply, because I know – they're absolutely ginormous.
And they're a curse, a curse on my existence.
They get in the way, they stick out the bed, they ruin endless pairs of socks, they force me to walk down tight staircases sideways, they weigh me down and they look ridiculous.
It wasn't always this way – I must have been at least 17 before I started to question whether my feet were actually ever going to stop growing.
Going into Clarks every summer for a pair of nondescript school shoes and placing your sweaty sock-clad hooves on that measuring device, well mine just got bigger and bigger every year, until the foot-measurer could measure me no more.
A couple of years later the enormity (quite literally) of my body issue came home to roost at university.
While casually lounging around a predictably unkempt living room in sock-less attire – watching Countdown (probably) – the shrill cry of an aghast student filled the air.
'Bloomin' 'eck Tim (she was northern), how big are your feet?!'
Cue head-turning, pointing and laughing – my (not so) secret problem was out and those cruel work-shy students milked it for all it was worth.
It was the big toes they were most interested in, as this is what extends my foot size by at least a half.
Although actually it's not a big toe, no, I don't call it that (although 'big toe Tim' is a moniker I've picked up from so-called witty acquaintances), it's a mammoth toe.
Because of this buying shoes has also long been a huge issue, for your average, normal shop does not stock size 13s.
Twelves? Yeah sure, no problem, we'll just get those half-price designer loafers from the stockroom for you Tim, great bargain you've got there.
Except 12s are too small for me so I'm consigned to a life of buying blind – or as good as blind – by shopping online, where the high street stores deign to sell a 13.
I could shop at Walk Tall (a specialist outlet for the discerning customer of a certain height), at the similarly marketed High and Mighty, at www.bigfeetshop.com, or www.massiveandridiculousclownfeet.co.uk, but I have my dignity.
Well, I say dignity, but there are situations where dignity no longer applies to me.
Like when dancing, for example – you think having two left feet is bad, well try busting out some stylishly rhythmic smooth grooves when having two colossal tootsies to manoeuvre around the dance floor.
Your brain says move your left foot to the left, but by the time you've got round to actually lifting your incredibly heavy foot, you've missed half a beat – the party goes on without you.
And sport? Forget it.
I know it could be worse, I know there are people with bigger feet afflictions than mine, but I could probably embrace having 15s or 16s.
Mine are just annoying slightly oversized.
So if you can find it in your heart, have sympathy. And try not to stare. That would be a feat in itself.
