The Red Shoes

I had the opportunity to continue yesterday's theme of red shoes, with a twist.

This story is true.

When I was born, sometime last century, it was on St Crispin's Day (hence my nom de plume).
St Crispin is the patron saint of shoemakers (or cobblers). At that time my father owned a shoe factory.

My mother used to say that when a woman walked into the room, he would look at their....shoes.

Strange how the generations change.

Oh cobblers!