The town called Oppression.

The oppressive nature of the town in which I live became blatant as the lack of rain or snow allowed the footwear choice of bright, vibrant, red and (slightly) heeled Chelsea boots. This immediately gained the attention of a group of acquaintances, dismissed with an indifferent wave and continuation on my walk. However, the discussion that would have followed was rather obvious during my walk past. Already aware a majority of these people consider my dress code often “whorelike”, I can only assume with great certainty they were satirising the ‘street worker’ style they perceive my feet to have adopted. Whereas this became furthered, with walks to get coffees having the colour of the shoes draw immediate attention to me, noticing an obvious look from people of both genders observing my footwear and making quite overt judgements. Albeit I cannot know what they are thinking, but I can uncertainly presume they have similar mentalities to those of the people I unwillingly surround myself with. When I wear these shoes down Camden high street, who, can I ask, will judge me and label “whore” should I wear red shoes? Should one dress in heels in this town; it is deemed unsuitable and in fact “inappropriate” particularly for college, which was specifically informed to a prior student by a member of staff. This inability to dress as so wishes also seems restricted into this town, although I have yet no plans to ponder similar responses in other towns, but in current comparison to my hometown of London I can only frown upon the oppressive opinions, disappearance of expression and the lack of acceptance towards slights of individuality here.


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