Freakish

Here’s a thing. And not a Chinese one.

There is a British company (whom I shan’t name since becoming aware of the scary power of Google to watch my every word much more assiduously than any Chinese Big Brother could ever do) which specialises in making boots for women with ‘large or slim calves’. In other words, a shop for freaks, like me.

They’ve only been going a few years, and when I heard about them I got very excited. Fantastic, I thought – I won't feel like a freak any more! No more utterly humiliating shoe-shopping experiences in which I’m reduced to tears by having a helpful but ever-so-slightly patronising girl get every pair of boots off the shelf in the shop for me, and then having to buy a pair I don’t like that much because they’re the only ones I can fit over my fat legs. These ‘large or slim calves’ people claim to have ‘21 different calf fittings’. They also do shoes for wide feet (yes, you guessed it, that’s me as well). Great! They’re a touch more expensive than the average but that’s fine with me, that’s a service I’ll pay for, I thought.

To put this in perspective you need to appreciate the difficulties I have with shopping in China. Now I’m not huge (well, I’m getting huger at the moment, but that’s different!). Curvy, perhaps. But not vast. But Chinese women are all SO skinny that if I want to buy any clothes here - except in the western shops in Shanghai - I have to get the biggest size there is, and even then sometimes it doesn’t fit me. I’ve never bought anything in XXXL before in my life, but that’s often what I count as here. Very often they don’t even have XXXL, and shake their heads apologetically while looking me up and down in a manner which says unmistakably, ‘God, we didn’t know people as fat as you even existed’.

What with this, and the fact that my immigration medical classified me as ‘obese’, don’t forget (as I never shall, grrr), I’ve been heard to protest wailingly that I must be the Fattest Person in China (FPIC). Peter tries to make me feel better by pointing out any fat girls we spot, with a nudge and an ‘FPIC alert!’. There aren’t many, but if you hang around Macdonald’s long enough you’re bound to see one or two.

Unfortunately, even if I could speak Chinese, you can’t exactly walk up to someone and say, ‘Excuse me, you look like a bit of a porker. Would you mind telling me where you bought the vast tent you’re wearing?’ So I haven’t bought many clothes. Don’t even get me started on the bras. Most of the offerings are gnat-bite size. Seriously I think it must be illegal in China to sell anything bigger than a C cup. Even in the maternity section of M&S they don't go above D. Online ordering from the UK is the way to go for me.

Shoes are just impossible for me here, of course, and it was for this reason that I went to the aforementioned ‘large & slim calves’ emporium in Edinburgh. I’d seen on their website that they did a fleece-lined boot which struck me as ideal for Harbin. It was summer when we left the UK so I couldn’t get winter boots then, so had to wait until we were visiting at Christmas before I could try them on. They don't carry stock in the shop so you have to select the ones you want and then they get them in from their warehouse. So they measured my ‘obese’ calf, and found a pair of the fleecy ones I was after which fitted me no problem.

‘Oh’, said the girl, checking her computer. ‘I’m afraid these aren’t currently in stock in your size combination. We’ll have to make them for you. It’ll be four to eight weeks, I’m afraid, with the Christmas break and everything.’

This was on December 22nd. Guess when they turned up? Last Wednesday. That’s March 4th. I make that more than 11 weeks. The company were very attentive and communication was great. They emailed me at least once a month to tell me the boots weren’t ready yet, and cajoled me with increasing desperation to ‘make an alternative selection from our website’. Eventually they apologetically announced – without me even complaining or anything - that they’d give me 10% off and free delivery, which seeing as it was to China was pretty good of them, thereby saving me about £30. Finally they told me which week the boots would be dispatched, and indeed they were.

Seriously though, eleven weeks? To make one pair of boots? What on earth?? The boots are very nice; they don't fit me now, of course, with my ankles all puffed up with pregnancy, but I won't need them in Shanghai and they should be ok for the autumn.

But what’s all this about ‘my size combination’? My feet are quite an average size once you ignore the width factor, which these guys take into account anyway. Where are your 21 different calf fittings? What’s going on? I'd been hoping for a self-esteem boost but I couldn't have failed more miserably.

Not only am I the Fattest Person in China. I'm officially too freakish for the freak shop.