Are you on Team Cankle?

I may be about to ruin your day. So sorry, if like me, you were blissfully unaware that you had acquired a membership of Team Cankel. This condition, for those unfamiliar, is when legs lack the natural curve or taper between the lower calf and the ankle. Basically a thick ankle. I only have one in cankle territory, not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. My left ankle puffs up in hot weather and when I’ve had a long day on my pins. This is due to a fracture some 30 years ago, which whilst all these years on means cankledom, it wasn’t all bad as it led to my starting a different life, moving from Notting Hill to Cornwall. I write about it in this extract from my book Dear You.

I met my second husband Des, while visiting friends in Cornwall. I was still madly hanging on to the idea of reuniting with my first husband but paradoxically feeling open towards meeting someone else. Des and I had nothing in common whatsoever (still haven’t ha!) other than the fact we had both been dumped by our spouses. Another experience shared was that he too had been ‘trying for a family’. It seemed both our partners had gone to try their luck elsewhere. We had been seeing each other for around a month; me regularly making the journey from Notting Hill to Cornwall, and Christmas was fast approaching, when I found myself in the Accident and Emergency department of the Royal Cornwall Hospital in Truro.

We had been up to Suffolk for Des to meet my parents for the first time and to deliver Christmas presents. We then spent the rest of the weekend catching up with friends in London and Christmas shopping, before commencing a tortuous journey back to Cornwall in freezing fog. A journey that should normally be around four and a half hours took us ten. It was very early days in the relationship and this ridiculously long journey from where I deemed at the time to be ‘civilisation’, meant that doubts started to fill my mind, not about the man, but about where he lived. It was simply too far away. Too far from all I loved and valued. Too far away from all I knew. Thoughts like: ‘This isn’t going to work’ and ‘I’ll give it until after Christmas’ spun around in my head. I didn’t share these thoughts, we were both tired and pissed off after the journey, but I felt awkward, uncomfortable and downcast after a thoroughly enjoyable weekend that should have left me feeling the opposite.

The following Monday evening, I was feeling rested and brighter but the doubts were still there and I’d pretty much decided that a life with this Cornishman wasn’t for me. It seemed the Universe had other plans. That evening I slipped on a wet floor and broke my ankle. It meant I was unable to drive for seven weeks. I could have asked Des to drive me up to my parents where I could have made my recovery but it didn’t occur to me. Des and his family got on with the job of looking after me. He cooked, washed, cleaned and ironed during this honeymoon phase of our relationship. He learned how to cook pasta dishes and even pretended to like them.

In the weeks following, my resistance to a life with this Cornishman melted and I made my decision to move from London to Cornwall and embrace the life of the countrywoman. I was moving on from my man in Paul Smith suits with smooth hands and pipe-cleaner arms, for a tanned, rugged countryman with rough working hands and big strong Popeye arms.

It wasn’t the outcome I’d expected; but at last I felt safe and loved.

I am most definitely not here to highlight yet another body part to feel ashamed of if it’s not perfect. I have read of women having surgery to remedy the ‘affliction’. Each to their own, but reading of one woman’s experience (here) having had liposuction on her fat ankles just made me feel a bit sad. Her closing words were these.

Friends and family have noticed the difference, as have I. The ankle straps on my summer sandals had to be adjusted by two notches. Recently, I tried on a pair of kitten heels for the first time ever. I'm wearing capri pants. And perhaps best of all, my boyfriend, who used to draw caricatures of me with Fred Flintstone feet, has run out of material for his sketch pad.

I think that possibly she should have dumped the boyfriend, saved her money and invested in some fabulous footwear.

As we are now in sandal territory, though the weather here in the UK is not quite delivering at present, but warmer days obviously mean that feet, naked feet are on show and following on from a previous post on dressing to flatter, I’m mindful of finding seasonal footwear that looks good.

Obviously if you are blessed with a pair of slender, elegant ankles, scroll on down to my Kitchen Disco Record of the Week, click the ❤️ button as celebration and be gone. You could even buy yourself a pair of these utterly fabulous gladiator sandals (slim calves and ankles pretty much essential here IMHO).

If you’re still with me I do feel a bit crap if I have drawn your attention to an area that you were perfectly comfortable with and are now wondering if that was misplaced.

For those of you who have just glanced down and thought, Christ! Yes that’s me, or perhaps you already knew, I am hopeful that you don’t much care, but if I have inadvertently made you feel bad, Daniel here will sort that out.

Cankles can appear for a number of reasons, an injury like mine, or fluid retention or simple genetics. Lifestyle can be a factor, sitting for long periods of time doesn’t help. Hormones, of course pesky hormones, those suckers always getting involved where they’re not wanted.

Whatever the reason for an ample ankle there are styles which flatter, it’s basically a common sense approach. It clearly makes sense to avoid a sandal that has a strap around the ankle, saying ’look at me’ and also anything too dainty and fine. Gladly for me the elegant, high-heeled, strappy sandal has never been my go to. I walk like a man in drag when wearing high heels, for older readers think Dick Emery’s Mandy in some of the clips below.

I love a more clumpy style, most especially when wearing floaty, feminine clothes and since stompy sandals seem to suit a bigger ankle it feels like a win. If you’re a bit averse to chunky footwear and want something more elegant but like me, find heels a challenge to walk on, then a wedge can be a good solution. Those with less than slender ankles who are ok with tottering on skyscraper heels would be well served by a block heel. Many of these ideas mentioned below by the (very slender ankled) New York stylist, Alison Bruhn @thestylethatbindsus

She does however rule out loafers. I’m ignoring that bit of advice; my love for loafers (which I wrote about here) remains unbowed.

I also have a love for Converse. My first pair were purchased some time ago post seeing the inimitable Joanna Lumley wearing the classic Chuck Taylor black high tops. She was meeting will.i.am in New York - quick clip below of Joanna being her perfectly charming self. Full documentary here.

If you were just looking at the clip for Converse-wearing proof and found none (it was my hope but I couldn’t find the right clip) here she is rocking a pair on a morning telly programme.

I also have a green and orange pair, the range of colours is vast. They are great for glamming-down an outfit and of course cankle concealment.

I have spend hours looking at sandals to suit the cankle, and the conclusion I have reached is life is really to short to care. However, having done the leg work (sorry!) I’ll share a few pairs I think would flatter. Some nude styles for the pale skinned here, here and here.

A chunky pair from Timberland here

and SOREL above

I love the look of these from Sèzanne, I think the slanted strap would work but I haven’t tried them on so I can’t be sure.

These are similar from M&S, who incidentally do seem to regularly punch above their weight in footwear, second pair from Clarks at M&S.

Another pair from Sèzanne.

And finally a bit of leopard from John Lewis.

Paolo Nutini - New Shoes

As Daniel the Scotsman likes a generous ankle I thought maybe fellow Scot - Paolo Nutini might not be averse.

I love his voice and this song.

Hope you’re still with me. LONG old post which quite possibly only appeals to a handful of you but it’s only a few minutes of your life. If you have liked it a wee click on the ❤️ button would be much appreciated.

Thanks as ever,