This is Derbyshire --
I WAS born and raised in Derby (an ex-Bemrose Grammar School pupil) and, although I live in South Wales and have been travelling into Central and Eastern Europe on business for over 40 years, I return to my native city frequently, staying in a hotel in Midland Road.
Furthermore, I am a "night" person, often staying up all night and can find myself at 4 or 5am in the city centre, not only in Derby, but in other towns and cities that I visit in Britain or abroad.
Always, particularly in the early hours or breakfast time on a Saturday or Sunday, after the weekend party nights, I witness the "walk of shame".
This consists of usually 20-something females wandering homewards, shoes in hand, still in their best party apparel.
Shoes are carried because they are virtually impossible to walk in. They look like works of art created in the sculpture department at the University of Derby but, as for comfortable footwear, forget it!
Why the "walk of shame"? The ladies concerned are often stuffed into tight, knicker-skimming dresses with revealing tops, accessorised with stripper heels and exposing lots of flesh – even if the city temperature hovers around zero.
These revellers find it difficult to walk, often smell of smoke or spilled "shots" and kebab. Blood-red eyes reveal they forgot to take out contact lenses or slept in full eye make-up. And they look ready to be sick in front of me – sometimes they are.
As an undergraduate, I've been there as the male equivalent, although I lived on a grant from Derbyshire County Council of £329 for a whole year in London. I managed, but it was the 1960s and Mick Jagger was two years above me at the same academic institution.
If only I was young again – without the hangover.
Christopher Short
Aberystwyth Crescent
Barry Reported by This is 10 hours ago.
I WAS born and raised in Derby (an ex-Bemrose Grammar School pupil) and, although I live in South Wales and have been travelling into Central and Eastern Europe on business for over 40 years, I return to my native city frequently, staying in a hotel in Midland Road.
Furthermore, I am a "night" person, often staying up all night and can find myself at 4 or 5am in the city centre, not only in Derby, but in other towns and cities that I visit in Britain or abroad.
Always, particularly in the early hours or breakfast time on a Saturday or Sunday, after the weekend party nights, I witness the "walk of shame".
This consists of usually 20-something females wandering homewards, shoes in hand, still in their best party apparel.
Shoes are carried because they are virtually impossible to walk in. They look like works of art created in the sculpture department at the University of Derby but, as for comfortable footwear, forget it!
Why the "walk of shame"? The ladies concerned are often stuffed into tight, knicker-skimming dresses with revealing tops, accessorised with stripper heels and exposing lots of flesh – even if the city temperature hovers around zero.
These revellers find it difficult to walk, often smell of smoke or spilled "shots" and kebab. Blood-red eyes reveal they forgot to take out contact lenses or slept in full eye make-up. And they look ready to be sick in front of me – sometimes they are.
As an undergraduate, I've been there as the male equivalent, although I lived on a grant from Derbyshire County Council of £329 for a whole year in London. I managed, but it was the 1960s and Mick Jagger was two years above me at the same academic institution.
If only I was young again – without the hangover.
Christopher Short
Aberystwyth Crescent
Barry Reported by This is 10 hours ago.
