Letters to the magazine "London Life" 1924-1941

Forum rules
Communication only in English!!!
Messages in other languages will be deleted!!!
User avatar

Topic Author
Bazil
Старожил
Posts: 514
Joined: 01 Sep 2017, 23:35
Reputation: 283
Sex: male
Has thanked: 698 times
Been thanked: 630 times
Russia

Re: Letters to the magazine "London Life" 1924-1941

Post: # 25325Unread post Bazil
10 Feb 2018, 10:21

1934

London Life January 27, 1934 pp. 69 — 70
Marvellous Feats Of Limbless People
From miniature painting to tiger shooting.
Believe it or not, but among the art treasures at Windsor Castle and Buckingham Palace are exquisite miniatures of members of the Royal family painted by Miss Sarah Biffen, who was entirely limbless.
Yet though born without hands, without even rudimentary arms or legs, her skill with pencil and brush wielded by her mouth gives her a place in Redgrave's "Dictionary of British Artists" and the still greater honour of inclusion in that most austere of reference books, "The Dictionary of National Biography", in company with Reynolds and Turner, Romney, Millais and Sargent.
In that same high company of statesmen, explorers and big-game hunters, Arthur Kavanagh, M. P., has a full length record of his private and public life, though he, too, was born, and lived actively through his sixty years, entirely without limbs. Yet he was both Irish squire and Member of Parliament, riding, hunting, shooting (including tiger in India), fishing, writing and drawing better without arms and legs than most men with them.
Sarah Biffen's art fame.
The admitted eminence of these to people, so widely different, but alike in being limbless, gives each a particular interest. Sarah Biffen was the child of a simple farming family near Bridgewater. The birth of that armless and legless baby girl just a mere trunk — was the wonder of that Somerset countryside, as she was later to become noted through the land, honoured by nobles and Queen Victoria herself.
But in some way that dwarfed girl, without a leg or an arm she never grew to be more than 37 inches high, or rather long learnt to read from the village schoolmistress, and later to write with a pen held between her teeth.
More marvellously she, by infinite effort and patience, mastered the use of a needle, thread and scissors with her mouth. Then from a Mr. Dukes she learnt similarly to draw and paint, and under his guidance began to travel all over England.
She held exhibitions and sales of her work, of demonstrations of how she wrote, sewed, drew and painted. In addition to these admission fees from spectators she sold her autograph, and drew landscapes or painted miniature portraits on ivory. One of her sitters in London was the Earl of Marton, who, after each sitting, took the unfinished portrait with him.
When he had thus convinced himself that Sarah's work was genuinely hers and unaided, the Earl not only doubled her fee but paid for her to recollect lessons from the then fashionable painter, Craig, of the Royal Academy.
The Society of Artists awarded its medal to little Miss Biffen of no arms and legs. The Royal Family, including Queen Victoria, had miniatures painted by her, and she became a pet of the fashionable world. But her rascally manager secured almost the whole of that financial harvest for himself. However, following ill-health, she was awarded a small Civil List Pension by the Queen, and retired to private life in Liverpool.
What is more, she married and some dozen years later she returned to her artistic life as Mrs. Wright. As such she lacked the attraction of Miss Sarah Biffen, and a public subscription in Liverpool ensured her comfort until death at the age of 66.
Fins instead of fingers.
The example of her success and courage in facing life steeled the resolution of a young Irishman, born armless and legless like Miss Biffen. Arthur Kavanagh was 20 when she died, unlike her, of an old and wealthy family. He was the third son of the Squire of Borris, and a grandson of Lord Clanearty.
Into a family of normal, healthy children, came this baby without limbs. The highest surgical skill could do nothing for the boy, who cheerfully and determinedly set himself to live exactly as if he had no affliction.
Where other lads would have moped, Arthur Kavanagh denied his limitations and attacked study and sports with equal zest. Under private tutors he read, wrote and drew.
Strapped in a chair-saddle, he mastered horsemanship and became an accomplished, daring rider over any country. With the reins round his arm— stumps, he could ride as if he had fingers, and he could also use even the whip with effect.
For years he hunted, taking walls and hedges with equal daring, despite the danger of a broken girth or the horse's fall. Long practice made his fingerless arm-stumps as strong, supple and nervous as most men's hands. From a boat or mounted on a pony (remember he could not walk or stand) he was a dexterous and successful angler.
He could just manage to make his fin-like arms meet across his chest; and with a special gun he became a fine shot; whether birds or deer in Ireland or Scotland, or tiger and lion in India.
He spent three years on a journey through Russia, Persia, Mesopotamia and India, chiefly on horseback, for railways were few then. When remittances were delayed, he earned his living for a time as dispatch rider in Aurungabad and as a map-maker at Poona.
Happy in marriage and business.
Years later he drew all the plans for the rebuilding of villages on his estate at Borris, and the Royal Dublin Society awarded its medal for his designs. He married happily, and all his children were healthily normal.
Walk he could not, so he was necessarily carried on the back of a servant to and from his carriage or horse; but he contrived a chair in which he could move himself about a room. He had handsome features and an unfailing cheerfulness which charmed everyone, including even the House of Commons during his fourteen years' service as M.P. (Member of Parliament). He was carried to and from his seat, made his speeches sitting down, and neatly turned his notes between his fin-like stumps.
In that respect Major Brunel Cohen, now in the House, has advantage over Mr. Kavanagh, for while that ex-Service champion lost both legs in France, his arms are intact. Recent years have brought immense strides in the education of people who have lost a limb or limbs, to adapt themselves to their new life.
Only a month ago one-armed golfers held a tournament between themselves; while lawn-tennis, billiards, cycling, swimming and other feats, are almost now as common among people who lack a leg or arm as twenty years ago they would have been impossible.
Teaching dumb girl to speak.
Artists with one hand exhibit at the Royal Academy so frequently as to escape notoriety, but in all such cases the lose of one limb is not comparable with the handicap of a person born without legs and arms.
Yet what courage and patience can achieve is proved by Helen Keller who, when a 15-months-old baby, lost her sight, hearing and speech after scarlet fewer.
When she was nearly ten years old someone taught her how to use the finger alphabet, and so how to read and write. Slowly, by infinite patience, she learnt how to speak. She is stone deaf, but by placing her finger lightly against the lips of anyone speaking she reads off the words from the movements of the speakers mouth.
So she graduated at university and has written books, while her lectures describing the story of her life and awakening make this blind, deaf and dumb woman famous throughout Europe and America to-day.


London Life March 10, 1934 p. 23
A Suggestion From Wallace Stort
Dear Sir, — How about publishing photographs of well-known limbless ladies of the fairs and side-shows? I don't know, of course, what your sources of supply are, though I imagine they are pretty expensive, but photographs do exist of Violetta, the beautiful German armless and legless girl; Madame Gabrielle, the "half-lady"; Mlle Vallйe, the Belgian armless lady; and Martha Morris, Frances O'Connor and Kitty Smith, American armless girls. There are two completely armless women at present on show in England — Miss Rose Forster and Miss Tiny.
There is a legless girl now on show in America, Miss Gene Weeks (now with Harris and Winter's Travelling Museum), whose photograph might be available. I have heard of at least two one-legged girl acrobats in Germany, and some years ago of a one-legged "sister" act in America, but I am afraid that is all the information I have about them.
Yours truly,
Wallace Stort.


London Life March 17, 1934 p. 23
A One-Legged Bride
Dear Sir, — In the summer of 1929 business took me to Birmingham, and at the last minute I caught the train from Paddington and somewhat breathlessly dropped into a corner seat. The only other occupant of the carriage was a girl, at first sight obviously pretty, sitting directly opposite me.
I looked at her and remarked: "I am afraid I cut things rather fine."
"Yes," she replied, "I am afraid I have to allow more time than you did."
The significance of this remark then dawned on me, far it was apparent that her shapely and well-displayed left leg was her only leg.
For a time we chatted on the weather, and all the while I was taking in the details of the girl's perfect face and figure.
I will not trouble you with the details of our conversation, but let it suffice to say that I made a firm friend of the girl, and during the following months spent much of my spare time with her.
She had lost her leg when very young, but had always made the best of things. Indeed, I do not think she thought very much about it at all. She became aware of the one-legged kink when about 16, when her growing beauty added to the skilful use of her single leg.
At first she rather resented the attitude of the majority of men thinking she would like to have a boy who loved her in spite of her deficiency. Gradually, she accepted the position and made friends with the more suitable of several admirers.
I must admit I fell completely in love with her, but her attitude to me was one of intimate friendship, and not love.
Eventually, she did meet the right man, and I was present at her wedding in the autumn of 1930. The wedding took place in a registry office, and a beautiful figure the bride made in a smart short-skirted dress supported by a slim black crutch.
I am afraid I did not pay much attention to the ceremony, as my attention was wholly taken up by a pretty brunette who was present and had herself lost her right leg. I took the opportunity to make the acquaintance of this girl, who used a pair of crutches; but of my experiences of her I will tell later.
Yours truly,
Marcel The Second


London Life April 28, 1934 p. 59
Happy, Though Amputated
Dear Sir, — A friend has shown me some back numbers of "London Life", and as one-legged girls seem to be of interest to some of your readers I venture to send a few of my own confessions.
I am 27 years of age, and considered to be pretty. After a serious motor accident three years ago I came out of hospital with my left leg off and the possessor of a small round stump about 5 inches long.
At first I was very despondent and hated being an object of pity as I hopped about, but as I got confidence on my crutches I felt a new thrill in my life. I went away for a month to the seaside with a girlfriend, and amongst strangers I gradually lost my shyness, although I was still stared at everywhere.
My friend encouraged me to dress smartly again and to wear a pretty shoe on my one foot; and, to my surprise I found the men friends we met most attentive to me, and about a year ago I was happily married to a dear boy who confessed that he had found my one leg an added attraction.
Soon after we became engaged he took me to London and bought me some very slender French crutches in black, an also an evening pair in white enamel, besides some very dainty high-heeled shoes. Curiously enough, he prefers me with one crutch and I therefore go generally out with him on my single black crutch.
In the house I generally hop about without any crutches, and the whole thing is really a question of balance. With perseverance a one-legged girl can do most things that other people can. I have seen a girl with a pin-leg — below knee amputation — ride a bicycle with a special pedal to receive the base of the leg. I have also seen one-legged men acrobats — men riding bicycle with a single crutch clipped to the side; and after three years on my single leg I am perfectly contended to remain a one-legged girl.
Your readers may wonder why I have not mentioned an artificial or even a pin-leg. The latter would be very awkward to wear with such a high amputation as mine, and although my friends have often urged me to have an artificial leg, the idea does not appeal to me, and my husband prefers me as I am.
I wish some of your readers who have such experiences would also send photos for publication, if it were only a back view. I should be pleased to send some snaps of myself on crutches, etc, in return, as I am not ashamed of being
Yours truly,
A One-Legged Girl


London Life April 28, 1934
The Strange Experiences Of A Lover
by Wallace Stort
(See stories!...)


London Life May 26, 1934, p. 22
One-Legged Girl's Confession
Dear Sir, — I have noticed with regret the falling off of stories and letters from and about one-legged people. I need not point out that this subject is of great interest to very many of your readers, and I certainly think that a little space to be given at least once a month to the subject, which is so fascinating to many of us.
The suggestion of Wallace Stort's republish photos is a very good one, but why not endeavour to obtain photos of everyday one-legged ladies? There are certainly a good many about.
I wonder if my little story would interest those of your readers who have the "limbless complex"?
I am 27, and have been one-legged for nineteen years, having had my left leg amputated at the knee as a result of an accident.
I have never used an artificial limb, but as a growing child I did use a wooden peg leg for some years, but discarded it when I reached my sixteenth birthday, as I considered that it was very unsightly used in conjunction with the short skirts then in fashion, and it was a source of constant annoyance to me as it was quite rigid and had a really wonderful habit of getting in other peoples way.
Since then I have used a single crutch of the revolving head bow pattern, which is very light and quite comfortable when one has got used to it.
I have never let my one-leggedness stop me from enjoying myself, and I am quite agile and not at all self-conscious, apart from the fact that I cannot dance and take part in games. And as I have never done either of these things I do not miss them, and am able to walk for quite long distances without getting tired.
I dress smartly and do not neglect my looks, and I know, and have been told, that I am every bit as attractive as others who have a full complement of limbs.
Five years ago I was walking down a busy London street doing my shopping, keeping close to the edge of the pavement, when my crutch slipped away from me, and I fell. My crutch fell into the roadway and was run over by a passing car and broken.
Before the usual crowd had a fair chance to assemble, a young man lifted me up and carried me into a nearby teashop, and suggested that I remained there until the crowd had dispersed and until he could get a taxi.
I thanked him and fell in with his suggestion, and then complimented him and his presence of mind in getting me away from an embarrassing situation.
The taxi ride was of necessity a long one, and in the course of it we talked of many things and soon found out that a thing I had for a long time suspected was true — that a one-legged girl has a certain definite attraction and appeal to many people.
The man admitted that he had been following me for some time, and naturally jumped at the chance which gave him an opportunity of getting to know a one-legged girl.
In the end I arrived at my home and was carried inside. I could do no less than asking him to stay to tea, and our chance meeting ripened in time to a very warm friendship.
Almost all our spare time was spent together, and I learned many things about the limbless complex.
He encouraged me to do so many things I had only attempted in a very half— hearted way before I met him, and among them was an ability to move around without a crutch, and also to wear a higher heel on my shoe than I had ever attempted to do, and now I wear a 5 inch heel (indoors, of course) and rarely use a support of any kind indoors, except when wearing my stilt heel, when I either have to use a crutch or to be carried.
Before we had been acquainted two years he asked me to marry him; and knowing that he realised my shortcomings, and also that I was able to do most of my own housework and all my cooking, I had little hesitation in accepting, with the result that we have now been married nearly three years, and have never regretted it.
I have one little son, and people have long ceased to stare at me as I walk out pushing the perambulator.
I hope this letter will induce some of your other one-legged readers to write. And might I say to those of your readers who have recently lost a leg that there are very many other things much worse that might have happened to them?
After a while the loss of a leg is accepted as the natural course of things, and many compensations are given to counterbalance the loss.
Above all do not neglect your own personal appearance. Be sensible, dress smartly, and do not go about with a "Pity a poor cripple" look on your face. One need not be a cripple even if a leg is missing.
Yours truly,
Stella


London Life September 29, 1934 p. 56
Like A Baby Learning To Walk
Dear Sir, — Can you tell me of any book which deals exclusively with legless people or limblessness of any sort? I am an admirer of Mr. Stort, and I hope he writes again soon, plentifully illustrated. Does he publish his work in book form? Are you going to publish a photo of the one-legged dancer of "Blackbirds of 1934?"
A girlfriend of mine is fearfully interested in limblessness, as she is partially legless herself. Both of her legs were amputated just above the knees. She could wear wooden legs, but chooses not to. She either gets about in a self-propelled chair, or walks on her stumps and tiny crutches. She mostly has to be carried everywhere.
Unlike Mr. Stort's heroines, she does not wear shorts, but a brief skirt and the usual feminine garments. Incidentally, she does not wear stump socks, but somehow her suntanned bareness does not look out of place. She has been legless eleven years, and is 21 now.
When I take her out in my car, she does not take crutches, for she knows I prefer her not to. In the country we have thrilly games in the long grass, she walking on her stumps while I support her "like a baby learning to walk", as she laughingly puts it.
All success to "London Life"
Yours truly,
Twenty-Five.


London Life September 29, 1934 p. 59
A Queer Coincidence
Dear Sir, — I am 23 years old and my friends tell me I am pretty and my figure is perfect — that is, except for one thing, for my right leg was amputated at about 5 inches from the hip when I was 8 years old.
Up to the time I left school I used a peg-leg, but after leaving I realised that I was not very attractive, and took to crutches and finally to a single crutch. I had the usual boy— and girlfriends, and on the whole I did not give much thought to my loss.
The boys were always particularly nice to me, and most careful not to show undue curiosity. By the time I was 17 I had developed very nicely, and I often heard the remark, "What a shame that such a pretty girl should be one-legged!" And I was inclined to agree.
Quite frequently I could not help being aware that I was being followed, and one young man was especially persistent. Whenever possible, he would take a seat opposite me in the bus and take covert glances. I rather resented his scrutiny, and one day asked him what he meant by it.
He was most apologetic, but stammered out that he was much attracted by me, but was afraid to speak. I was not attracted by him, and dismissed him. This incident, and many others, convinced me, however, of the existence of the one-legged kink.
When I was 18 I went to Hastings with a girlfriend for my summer holiday. It was a time when skirts were worn very short, and I believe I made an attractive figure in my short-skirted flimsy summer dress, leaving, as it did, my single leg fully displayed.
We arrived at our boarding-house in the evening, and almost immediately went down to dinner. The room was crowded, and I was conscious of rather more than the usual interest as I walked in supported by a single crutch.
We were placed at a table of a man of about 30, his very attractive young wife and a man who was the younger brother of the other man. We found them pleasant, and the young man was very attentive to me.
My friend had placed my crutch a yard or two away against the wall, and after dinner Fred, the young man, fetched it and adjusted it under my arm. His brother's wife then rose from the table, and I was amazed to see her husband reach down and pick up a crutch, which he placed under her right arm.
She walked round the table towards me, and as she came fully into view it was apparent that she, too, had lost her right leg and, to take the coincidence further, it was obvious from the way her skirt was disturbed under the hip, that her stump was about the same size as my own.
She invited me into her bedroom, and told me how pleased and interested she was to meet a one-legged girl as charming as I — a compliment which I returned with sincerity. After a pleasant chat I rejoined my friend and we struck up a friendship with Fred and another young man.
During the days which followed, Fred was most attentive to me, and indeed we were nearly always together. One evening towards the end of my stay I went for a stroll with Fred in the park. Fred confessed his love for me, and I pointed out my deficiency.
He protested that I was as active on my one leg as some people were on two, and went on to confess that he was fascinated by my condition, which was one of the chief attractions I had for him. I gave in, of course, and eventually we were married about two years ago.
Thus, apart from occasional regrets, I have been very little troubled at any time by my lack of a right leg, and now that I am happily married I have no regrets at all.
Yours truly,
One-Legged Wife.


London Life October 13, 1934 p. 28
Experiences Of A Monopede
Dear Sir, — In your June double number I notice one of your correspondents, "Lillian" stating that she would like to read some articles on legless people. Then perhaps an article by a one-legged woman would be of interest to her and some of your other readers.
About eight years ago when I was only 17 years of age, I was badly injured in a railway accident and my right leg was amputated above the knee. For a year after the operation I walked around on crutches. Then a friend suggested an artificial limb. I, wishing of course, to alleviate the after effects of my injury as much as possible, purchased an artificial leg.
However, after six months painful struggling I found it more of a hindrance to me than anything else and eventually returned to crutches once more. After experimenting thus in vain I was determined to satisfy those cravings for beautiful clothes I had before my accident.
Here, I might mention, that I am above medium height being 5 foot 10 inches tall and with a fairly slim figure. All my life I have had a natural desire for clothing my legs in beautiful shoes and stockings and the loss of a limb was not to gainsay me these pleasures. My one remaining leg is very neatly shaped and I try my best to clothe it as attractively as possible.
For the last three years I have been wearing a very high-heeled shoe. At first I found some difficulty in getting round on such a high heel but now I manage comparatively easily.
Like "Lillian", I am also an office worker and happening to be in a very good position I am able to wear the finest and best in footwear and other clothes. I am very fond of lovely lustrous silk stockings, particularly those of a dark flesh colour and invariably wear them. I do not use suspenders but a plain garter. Here I might mention that stockings do not cost me very much, for I can wear both stockings on the same leg. Shoes however are not interchangeable and in my flat I have a heap of brand-new shoes, all fitting the right foot, which should be worth a good few pounds.
Yours truly,
One-Legged Ursula.
Cape Town


London Life November 24, 1934 p. 48
A Little Advice Wanted
Dear sir, — I wonder if some of your one-legged girl correspondents would help a fresh addition to their number. I recently had my left leg amputated a few inches below the hip, and am just beginning to get about on my crutches. I am wearing a knitted stump sock, but should love to have silk ones if someone could tell me where they can be obtained. Also would it be possible to wear a garter on a 7 inch stump, or how can I keep one sock on?
Then again about crutches. Where can I obtain some really smart ones, and not the usual heavy hospital type? I should also like to have a pin leg for the house, but am afraid it would be awkward with a high amputation unless they can be had with some kind of a knee joint.
I would much appreciate a little advice from some of your correspondents who have been amputated longer than I have.
I am quite alone and pretty helpless with my one leg. I should love to get about on one crutch or to hap about without them, but soon find myself on the floor if I attempt it. I wish we one-legged girls could get in touch with each other by means of a club, say, in London. Is there any such thing?
Yours truly,
A New Monopede.


London Life December 1, 1434 p. 23
A Strange Introduction
Dear Sir, — I have been a reader of your bright paper for just over a year. I was introduced to it in a peculiar manner.
Six years ago, when I was 16, I was unfortunate enough to get struck on the right knee by a hockey ball. This seemingly trivial accident developed into a serious bone malady, which resulted in the amputation of my leg at a point just below the hip.
I soon got used to being one-legged, but confess that I was not at all thrilled at the prospect of going through life minus a leg. I managed to get a job as typist in the West End, and began to settle down as best as I could.
Towards the end of the summer last year I noticed several evenings as I swung along on my crutches that I was being followed by a rather nice young man. Judge my surprise when one evening, having settled myself comfortably in the bus, I happened to glance up and saw him sitting opposite me. This happened several nights until we began to smile and nod at each other, and I became very disappointed when I did not see him.
One night he became bolder, and sat beside me. He got out before I did, and I noticed lying by my side a magazine, so I picked it up and saw it to be a brightly coloured periodical called "London Life". Having still some distance to go, I ran through its pages.
Suddenly my heart gave a beat, for there on the opened page was the neat drawing of a one-legged girl! I read the story, which I must say I enjoyed very much.
The next evening I saw him at the bus stop. He raised his hat and smiled, and I smiled in return. Then, greatly daring, I handed him the paper. He blushed and took it from me with a great show of indifference, and thanked me profusely.
With a hand that trembled he took my crutches from me and assisted me on the bus and sat down beside me. We started chatting and became more and more friendly as the moments passed.
After that evening it took but a few days for friendship to ripen and fruit into love.
His people took a great fancy to me, although his mother was a trifle shocked at the idea of a one-legged daughter-in-law. But behind all this I began to have a dreadful fear that if and when we did marry, he might be repelled by the sight of my limblessness.
I am now the proud owner of a diamond ring that I wear on the third finger of my left hand, and we are busily preparing for the wedding which is to be at Xmas.
John and I wish your paper good luck, for it brought as together, and we are both eagerly looking forward to another Stort story in the near future.
Would it be possible for you at some future date to give us a reprint of "Moignon d'Or", with more up-to-date pictures by Miss Stanton?
Yours truly,
Happy One-Legged Girl.


London Life December 8, 1934 p. 23
Advice Wanted
Dear Sir, — At last one of your one-legged readers has written again. I refer to "One-legged Wife's" very interesting letter in your September double number. It really was good to read of someone who has so much in common with me.
I am only 21 years of age, and it is just a year and a half now that my right leg was amputated about 3 inches below the hip, as a result of a street accident. Just like "One-legged Wife", I am told that I am pretty and have an excellent figure, judging from the modern athletic standpoint.
After my limb had been amputated I took two crutches, and now manage quite well with the support of only one crutch.
With the passing of time the keen edge of regret at the loss of my right leg has become considerably dulled. Nevertheless, there are times, and I am sure that every one-legged girl will agree with me, when one hankers after that lost limb.
As a sportswoman, I perhaps feel it much more. I can only participate as a spectator in my favourite sport, hockey, at which I gained representative honours. Tennis, dancing and hiking are all impossible to me now. The whole course of my life will have to be changed, and it is only now that I am beginning to realise it. I shall have to find new hobbies, pastimes and interests.
Since becoming a regular reader of "London Life" I have felt an increasing interest in high heels. Whether I myself will ever be able to wear a really high heel is a matter open to considerable doubt. I have a slender, nicely shaped leg, and content myself with wearing the finest of silk stockings.
At present I am staying with an aunt who, up to my coming of age, was my guardian. The good old lady, thinking perhaps that it would be for my own benefit, is continually urging me to have an artificial limb. I wonder whether "One-legged Wife" could inform me, through the columns of "London Life", whether it would be worth while in my particular case to fit an artificial limb. Has she tried the experiment and found it a failure? I wonder!
I am so much at home with my crutch that I am not at all looking forward to the fitting of an artificial leg.
I would greatly appreciate any advice that "One-legged Wife" is able to give me.
Yours truly,
L.N.
Capetown, S.A.


London Life December 29, 1934 p. 23
Overcoming Misfortune
Dear Sir, — I noticed in the Xmas number someone said "London Life" was read even in Scotland. Well, it is also read in Wales. We have been readers for years. My brother buys it in Cardiff.
I live with my brother and his wife, because I am a cripple. I have been for thirteen years. I am 23, and ever since the accident, when I was ten years old, I have never walked nor even stood unsupported by someone. My left arm is gone at the shoulder. My left leg was amputated at the hip. My right leg is cut off just below the knee. Of all my limbs, I only have my right arm and hand, and my right half leg.
Incredible though it seems, I can do everything for myself except, of course, walk and stand. I am quite happy. I earn quite a good income sketching and painting. I can get about the house and garden too, quite unaided. I sit on the ground and move very slowly, of course, by pushing myself along on my one hand and single stump.
My indoor dress is very simple. A short sleeved shirt and a pair of silk trunks belted at the waist. The trunks are one-legged, too, sown up on the left side. I wear silk because it wears well and slides over the floor easily.
By adopting a sitting posture I can even negotiate stairs up and down. For out of doors I have a specially built self-propelled chair. The handle by which I move it also controls the steering. I can get in or out unaided. I only put on a one-legged coat to go out. Rugs and a leather apron cover me from the waist down.
Well, Mr. Editor, all success to "London Life"
Yours truly,
One Limb



User avatar

Topic Author
Bazil
Старожил
Posts: 514
Joined: 01 Sep 2017, 23:35
Reputation: 283
Sex: male
Has thanked: 698 times
Been thanked: 630 times
Russia

Re: Letters to the magazine "London Life" 1924-1941

Post: # 25326Unread post Bazil
10 Feb 2018, 10:22

1935

London Life January 12, 1935 p. 23
A Very Interesting Party
Dear Sir, — In recent numbers of "London Life" I have noticed letters from one-legged girls, and perhaps my own experience may be of interest.
I lost my left leg about 6 inches above the knee when a girl seven years old, and, as my parents were poor, kind friends got me into a crippled girls' home. There I met two other girls of my own age who were also minus a leg. I suppose our common misfortune drew us together, for we became great friends, and still remain so, although we have now left the home and are earning our own living.
I will remember the interest we three girls excited as we hopped along on our crutches with only three legs between us. Nettie, the eldest, had her leg off at about the same place as I have, and was extraordinarily clever on her crutches. Elsie was amputated close to the hip.
Hopping races without crutches was a favourite game, everyone who fell down being disqualified. We were not in the least sensitive at our one-legged condition. In fact I think we rather enjoyed being different to other girls.
I remember we three once gave a gym display which brought the house down by a final display of leap-frog.
After I left this home and was about 17 I wore a pin leg, a great source of amusement to my two friends, who would try to catch hold on my wooden stump and put me helpless on the floor. It was very inconvenient, however, and the constant thud of its rubber tip used to worry me so that I discarded it except for housework.
I noticed a letter some time ago from a girl asking where she could get smart crutches and silk stump socks. Any artificial limb maker will get these made to measure. I have a pair of white silver crutches for evening, and several silk stump socks. Pin legs can be had with a locking knee joint for above knee amputations, though I have never seen!
Now, Mr. Editor, why will not some of your one-legged correspondents send some photos of themselves, either on crutches or with pin legs? I would send mine if someone will start, if they are afraid of being identified it is quite easy to conceal the face. What about the one-legged boys, too? Between us we would make a very interesting party.
Yours truly,
Edith


London Life February 2, 1935 p. 21
How He Found Her
Dear Sir, — I should like to relate a few experiences of mine which I think will be of interest to your readers.
On Boxing Day in 1928 I was invited to go to a party given by a friend. I arrived rather late, and found that the party had already sat down to tea. I knew all present with the exception of a pretty blonde, next to whom I was placed and who was introduced to me as Miss Summers.
I enjoyed the tea thoroughly and found Miss Summers as entertaining as she was pretty. Tea was finished at length and the party rose, leaving Miss Summers, whose Christian name was Olive, still seated. I waited for her to rise, and was amazed to see that my host was approaching her with a crutch in his hand. The girl rose, and I was then able to see that her right leg was missing. This was my first opportunity of knowing a one-legged girl.
During the evening we played many games, but eventually the party broke up and I saw the girl going home and, just as we were about to part, plucked up courage to ask her to meet again.
She laughed and said, "But tomorrow you will meet a girl with both her limbs and forget me."
"The fact is," I replied, "that I rather like you as you are, and I believe you know it."
My next encounter occurred in the summer of 1929, when one day as I went to catch my homeward bus I saw, a few yards away, a girl supported by a pair of crutches, beneath whose short skirt only one leg appeared. I sat opposite her in the bus, and formed the impression that her left leg was missing from the hip. The girl evidently worked near me, and I saw her on many occasions.
It became obvious to me that I was not the only man interested in her, as at least two other men betrayed to my watchful eye that they were considerably interested. One of them attempted to speak to her on one occasion, but received a very cold reception.
I learnt afterwards that she had only lost her leg quite recently, and was very sensitive about it. I saw her a few days ago, and she was wearing an artificial leg which gave her a very awkward walk, and I presumed that she had remained unaware of the one-leg charm.
Later in the summer I went on holiday to a farm in North Devon, and near there I had my most fortunate encounter.
One evening as darkness was falling I was on my way to the farm where I was staying, when I saw a stationary car in the lane. I reached it and saw a girl peering into the engine. She turned to me as I approached, and I saw at once that she was the most perfect girl of her kind that I have ever seen. The beauty of her face was quite remarkable, and her figure perfect, except that she had lost her right leg and was supported by a single crutch.
She explained that the car had broken down and that her companion, an older sister, had gone for help. I offered to see what I could do, and soon we were both busy with the engine. I found what was causing the trouble, and put it right temporarily. I got into the car and started up, noticing that the girl stood aside daintily poised on her one perfect leg and unsupported by her crutch.
I started the car forward, and heard a splintering sound as I did so. The crutch had slipped down by the bonnet, and the forward movement of the car had snapped it in half. I got out rapidly and apologised for the damage I had done. She was most sporting and insisted that the fault was hers. She still had one crutch, but that was at the farm, and there was a fair walk from the garage to the house itself. I lifted her into the car and we garaged it, picking up her sister on the way.
The sister, to my delight, stayed at the garage, and I was left to take the fair monopede to the house by myself. She chatted merrily as I walked along, and I was sorry when at length we reached the house. I set her down tenderly, and as I did so she said: "I hope I was not too much of a burden."
I was white and strained as I replied that I should like to do it again.
"Tell me," she demanded, "Do you think my loss of a limb makes me unattractive?"
This was too much for me and, drawing her towards me, I confessed that I had been searching for a long time to find a girl as attractive as she was.
I must not detain you further, but suffice it to say that I am now married to this fascinating monopede, and my married life has been one long thrill. I hope to tell you more about my wife in the future. In the meantime, Mr. Editor, will you please publish this letter in your following number and, if possible, illustrate it?
Yours truly,
Monopede's Husband


London Life February 16, 1935 p. 23
Happy In Misfortune
Dear Sir. — I have found time at last to write to you again. Perhaps you will remember I wrote a year or so ago under the name of "Single High Heel". Just lately you have published other letters from monopedes.
I am now happily married to a husband who considers my lack of a left limb one of my charms. As I told you in my last letter, my leg was amputated as the result of a smash whilst pillion riding. Since then I have learnt to do most things that I did prior to my accident, including the wearing of a high heel.
Before my accident I was noted among my friends for the height of my heels, and I determined that when I fully regained my strength I would not be satisfied with an invalid's existence, so that starting with a heel 2 inch in height, I was in a few months able again to wear a shoe with a five inch heel. Of course I do not wear these outdoors, which would be foolish; for a slip on such a heel and a pair of lightweight crutches might prove serious.
We have a dinky little flat, which my husband insisted on when we were married, on account of there being no stairs to climb, and I manage all my own work. While about my household duties I wear a rubber-soled heelless shoe similar to a tennis shoe, in which I can hop about everywhere, for to be continually picking up and laying down a crutch is a nuisance when one is in the buses.
While in the hospital I made friends with two other girls who had lost their legs, and we keep up the friendship still. One, unfortunately, has since had to have the other leg removed through complications, but she is wonderfully active, and recently spent a weekend with us. She uses a self— propelled chair.
A few weeks ago you published a letter from "A New monopede" who has my deepest sympathy. I think we all felt as she does for a time, but time is a great healer, and she will find many compensations. Regarding her inquiry for smart crutches she should have no difficulty in obtaining these at a good surgical store.
At our wedding I wore white and my husband bought me some silvered crutches, with which I wore a silver sandal with a 3 inch heel. My friends told me how chic I looked.
Congratulations to "Happy One-legged Girl". I hope by now she is happily married. Also to "Edith" for her jolly letter and suggestions re photos. I hope she will now send hers. I am enclosing some recently taken, showing the critics that I can wear a
Single High Heel


London Life February 23, 1435 p. 9
Advice Wanted
Dear Sir, — Thanks very much for the advice given by "Candidus" regarding the wearing of a high heel and a swimming costume. Concerning the latter I suppose a girl hopping along to bathe on a single leg is not a very alluring spectacle.
I am now faced with the problem of deciding whether to fit an artificial limb or not. I have been informed that, owing to the nature of my amputation, the leg would be quite rigid and that I would have to walk with a stick. I wonder what your opinion is. Perhaps you have a regular reader who has found herself in a similar position. Do you think that a single leg with a crutch looks more attractive than a rigid artificial limb? I wonder which is more comfortable and easier to manipulate.
I trust I am not troubling you too much with these few question, but I assure you that any information that can be given with be thoroughly appreciated.
Yours truly,
L.N.
Capetown


London Life March 2, 1935 p. 20
Attractive High-Heeled Monopedes
Dear Sir, — I was most interested to read the letter from "Monopede's Husband". I believe that this touches something that may appeal to not a few men. My only disappointment was that you were apparently unable to illustrate it, as suggested by your correspondent. Would it be too much to hope that you may remedy this next month?
Although I have on several occasions seen, for a few minutes at a time, extremely attractive monopedes — rather a happy word, that — I have never actually met one.
One girl I saw several years ago remains vividly in the memory. It was at an exhibition in London, which I was attending on business. I confess that business was not on my mind during the few minutes I was able to keep her in sight. She was of normal build, and attractive in countenance and figure. It was in the days of medium length skirts, and she had no right leg.
Her movements were easy and of a grace far above most girls. She was wearing a neatly cut blue costume, with a fur around her shoulders. She used only one crutch, and in her left hand carried a small handbag close to her side. As she walked — quite slowly at the while — she kept her shoulders almost level and progressed with a smoothness at which I marvelled. I have seldom seen anything more effortless.
One important point appealed to me, however, was that she was wearing a high heeled shoe. The heel was at least 3 inches in height, yet her balance was absolutely perfect the whole time. Occasionally when she was moving only a few short steps, and standing still again, she would not hold her crutch tightly, but seemed to make her shoulder and upper arm do all that was required.
This charming girl is the only lady monopede I have ever seen wearing a high-heeled shoe, and this enhanced her appearance and grace of movement 100 per cent. I felt I would much have liked to give her my arm crossing a cobbled street, as then she would surely need a little steadying. She had a friend with her, so would no doubt feel safe outdoors.
No doubt some considerable skill and long practice must be necessary to manage gracefully with a single crutch and a high heeled shoe. But to ask whether the loss of the limb makes such a girl unattractive — well, the above short description answers it best in my view. She was one of the most attractive girls I have seen.
Monopede's Admirer.
Amsterdam


London Life March 9, 1935 p. 22
The Cripple's Story. Peg-Leg Or Crutch?
Dear Sir, — During the past few weeks a few of your one-legged readers have woken up at last and have related some of their experiences in the columns of "London Life". Surprisingly enough, these correspondents write once and then disappear for good and always. I think that I am the only one-legged girl correspondent who has written more than once during the past year or so.
"A New Monopede" seems to have some difficulty about obtaining smart light crutches. Any surgical dealer will be able to supply her with these.
I have experimented with a peg-leg — or pin-leg, as some of your readers call it — and found it pretty useless, even with the patent knee-lock device attached. Above all, however, a peg-leg is certainly not a beautiful sight, and I would advise anybody against wearing one out of doors.
Yours truly,
One-Legged Ursula.


London Life March 23, 1935 p. 22
In Love With A Monopede
Dear Sir, — The letter from "Monopede's Admirer" was very interesting and as I hope to have for my wife a fair monopede very shortly, I think I can add a few comments which you may care to publish.
My fiancйe lost her right leg from just above the knee, several years ago, but I confess to me she is all the more attractive owing to her disability — of which, I may say, she makes very light. She is wonderfully agile, and her one perfect leg has a definite charm and appeal.
I shall never forget the day when I was first introduced to her, and my happy experience that day. It was last summer, at a newly opened bathing pool. I saw Jean balanced daintily on her one leg on the top diving board, talking to a girl I knew very well.
She was dressed in a pretty green bathing suit, evidently specially made for her in view of her loss of a limb, and she dived beautifully, swimming the length of the bath with a powerful side-stroke. I took an early opportunity to ask for an introduction, and found her as charming to talk to as I expected.
When we had all spent some time in the water I was pleased to find that her two friends wanted to leave early; but Jean was in no hurry. I offered to take her home in my car later, and she agreed to this suggestion. Half an hour later Jean hopped lightly away to the ladies dressing room, and I went my way to change.
I fell to wondering whether my charming acquaintance would look as attractive when she was dressed. My mind was set at rest after waiting a few minutes. Jean came towards me from the ladies side of the pool. She was dressed in a pretty summer frock, and I at once saw that she was wearing a high heeled shoe. She was using one crutch only, and I offered her my arm as we walked towards the car park. I found her glad of a little support as we made our way over some rough ground outside the gate, but otherwise she leant very little weight upon me.
I soon found that Jean had gone to a great deal of trouble to perfect her balance on one leg, and that she habitually wore a shoe with a high heel except for walking long distances.
Recently she came with me while I chose for her a court shoe in red with a very high heel. She looks, and admits she feels, rather helpless in this with her one supporting crutch. Nevertheless, she meets me at the door wearing it, and my supporting arm is quickly round her waist as we go into the room.
It is certainly thrilling to me to see her stand with no support other than her one crutch, and to watch her move gracefully and carefully across the room with a very short stride.
Jean is very particular in her dress, and she always wears a rather tight skirt almost as narrow as the old "hobble" skirt. This looks right with her one leg, and allows her to use her crutch gracefully.
Recently I had a surprise when I called on Jean. She had never let me "into the secret", as she called it, thinking I should not approve.
I found her wearing a light wooden leg — quite thin and dainty looking. She told me she had it made some years ago for indoor use, but had not worn it for some time. I was quite fascinated to see her walk with it with a graceful circular motion and, of course, a very short stride owing to her narrow skirt.
Jean was delighted at my approval, and although she does not intend to wear it outdoors, she walked on it to the pillar-box at the end of the road, wearing one of her highest heeled shoes and holding my arm.
I gather that when we are married she will often dispense with her crutch in the house, but she promises to keep to her high shoe. She will not, I am glad to say, experiment with a normal artificial leg, as she knows that she would have somewhat of an ungainly walk and not look so attractive. She is very graceful in the use of a crutch. I may say I have never yet seen her use two crutches. She has several smart ones, well made and light, and with a special adjustment for height, so that she can easily and quickly alter them for use with a medium or high shoe.
I think "A Monopede's Admirer" will perhaps be a little envious when I mention a few of my little attentions to Jean, all of which I find very exciting. Helping her to put on or take off her coat, holding her crutch for her the while, and she balancing perfectly on one leg; changing her shoe for her when we go indoors, putting on her foot a pretty shoe with a high heel; walking with her arm in mine as I always do indoors; inserting in the pierced ears a pair of heavy pendant earrings which swing in such a fascinating way as she walks. All these things I do for her whenever I have the opportunity. And how thrilling it is to see her hop on her high heel a few paces across the room when she does not trouble to use her crutch; and to look at her one perfectly clad foot resting on the floor as she sits, perhaps gently tapping the carpet with her toe to the wireless dancing music. Another fascinating thing is hearing the alternate sounds of her crutch and high heel on the pavement as she walks towards me.
Jean has rather weak sight in one eye, and for reading or close work of any kind wears attractive tortoise shell rimmed glasses. After a little persuasion I have got her to wear a monocle quite frequently instead of her glasses. She looks charming with this in her eye, and admits it is very handy, saving her opening her handbag and putting on her glasses on odd times. The monocle has a thin gold rim and hangs on a very fine black silk cord. I delight to see her using it, and am in no doubt that it adds fascination to her. She has lovely eyes, of which I think it increases the attraction.
I am kept in a constant state of interest in Jean's appearance. When I call upon her I find myself wondering whether I shall find her using her crutch or walking on her thin and shining wooden leg, whether she will be wearing her monocle, or have put in her long earrings before I arrive. Need I say that I find her fascination grows upon me more and more?
Yours truly,
One High Heel Only.


London Life March 23, 1935 p. 21
Photos Of Monopedes Wanted
Dear Sir, — There is now no question of doubt that we have a very large number of one-legged lady readers of "London Life", and in their letters that are published, advice and help from one to another is often exchanged.
Do you not realise, Mr. Editor, the important position you occupy in helping these ladies to solve their little problems, to pass on advice, etc, by publishing their letters? No other paper, that I am aware of, caters for them like "London Life".
I sincerely trust that you will not only continue to act as the Good Samaritan, but publish all and every letter you receive from these one— legged ladies.
Further, several have indicated their willingness to forward you photographs of themselves — e.g. "Edith" in your issue of January 12, "A One-legged Girl", April 28, 1934.
Perhaps we could select "Edith" to start the ball rolling. She promised a photograph showing herself wearing a pin-leg. Please, "Edith" send one, and you, Mr. Editor, please publish same.
Yours truly,
Marcel.


London Life April 13, 1935 p. 22
Happy One-Legged Mother And Wife
Dear Sir, — Having read the article from a correspondent, entitled "In Love With a Monopede", I have come to the conclusion that he is not exactly in love, but is purely fascinated — which state I know is much more general than is imagined.
I may say that I have been a one-legged girl since the age of five years, and have now been happily married fifteen years and have two fine girls. I have always used only one crutch and have always done my own housework and nursing the children.
I have always dressed smartly and wore a smart shoe, but with only a moderately high heel owing to the notice it attracts when walking out.
I now wear an artificial leg when going out, as this enables me to keep my clothes much better and they also look better, as they are not dragged up under the arm by a crutch; and now, although I never wear the leg indoors, I would not go out without it. I am enclosing some snaps which you are welcome to use if they are of any use for reproduction.
Hoping my lead will induce others to do the same.
Yours truly,
Happy With One.


London Life April 27, 1935 p. 27
Happy Though Marred
Dear Sir, — I am glad at last to see that "Single High Heel" has led the way by sending a charming photo of herself with her one leg. In order to encourage other monopedes, I am sending one or two snaps of myself, in the hope that they will be suitable for reproduction.
My left leg was amputated not far from the hip about four years ago and, strange though it may seem, I am perfectly happy on my crutches. Perhaps it is partly the sympathy and interest my one-legged condition arouses wherever I go, for most girls like to attract attention and certainly I get my full share, whatever the cause may be.
If I am at the seaside and hop down the promenade on my smart French crutches, I am conscious that all eyes are on me and my single leg. If I enter a room full of people, I am at once given a seat and looked after with special attention. Of course I know it is chiefly because I am a cripple, but as a not unattractive and well dressed girl it certainly appeals to me. Anyway, I have gradually come to think that the stump of my leg is not such an unfortunate possession as I once thought it. Like "Single High Heel" I can hop about the house without my crutches, and prefer it, as it sets my hands free, and with the aid of a double Alastair rail I can also get up and down stairs on my one leg.
When out of doors I prefer to use two crutches, as a single crutch gives one a rather ungraceful walk. I wear a high-heel shoe, as I have always been used to wearing heels very high before my amputation. I have a pin— leg, but must confess I do not like it, and rarely wear it, though, strangely enough, my husband likes me to wear it and seems to think it attractive. So sometimes, to please him, I put it on and go out after dark with my little wooden leg and single slipper. But, best of all, I like in the evenings to hop over to his side and know that I am truly loved in spite of being
Yours truly,
A One-Legged Wife.


London Life May 4, 1935 p. 20
Happy On One
Dear Sir, — I have been staying in London some time, and through a boyfriend I have made the acquaintance of "London Life".
May I congratulate you on some of your numbers which he has shown me?
I belong to the company of those who have to get along with one leg instead of two, but for many years now I have been thrilled by my one-legged condition rather than distressed by it.
This all began by meeting a charming man who was fascinated by monopedes and by my "one and only" in particular.
I am going to ask him, next time we are together, if he will write an account for me of our first meeting and how our friendship developed. I want him to write it because he led me to be thrilled also, and it is all rather remarkable.
I hope you will publish this letter and the history of our meeting later on, because although you have occasional letters from girl monopedes I don't suppose you have had one from a girl who is so happy that she would not change places with any one of her two-legged sisters.
With slender black polished crutches, a brand new patent-leather high— heeled shoe, and my waist firmly held by a beautifully cut corset, I have made many male conquests, and am thoroughly pleased with life.
I reply to the new monopede who wrote recently, of course she feels run down at first, but a big effort has to be made, and then all goes well.
Yours truly,
Quite Happy Hopping.


London Life May 11, 1935 p. 23
Why The Limbless Are Interested In Life
Dear Sir, — I expect you will have received my other letter by now, written a week ago. I have to rely on others to post my letters, as I am too helpless to go out except in an invalid chair.
It is strange how peculiarly my utterly legless and helpless condition is affecting me. I told you in my last letter I've given up wearing orthodox trousers. I also described my dresser so I won't go through it all again.
The somewhat ill-fitting bathing slip has been discarded for black silk legless trunks.
My own utter helplessness somehow thrills me. It sounds crazy, I know, but I think it is this acceptance of our utter dependence on others that keeps we legless folk interested in life. It would be silly, for instance, for me to wear clumsy garments and strive to be independent. I should only struggle in vain, look silly, and end up by begging assistance. Whereas now I demand assistance, in my leglessness is my right.
I have had my bedroom altered now. Before I had to be lifted into bed. But I can manage it myself now. My room, to a legless cripple, looks like a banquet hall! It took me too long to crawl to the various pieces of furniture, so I have been given a new room.
My bed is a cot, the legs sawn off to bring it within 6 inches of the floor. The other furniture is lowered in proportion, while the mirrors stand on the floor.
I hope lots of legless readers will write to you. My compliments to "Happy With One" on her interesting snap. I haven't the pluck to send mine.
Yours truly,
Legless.


London Life May 11, 1935 p. 20
Won By A Leg
Dear Sir, — Although I have written this letter in story form, it is quite true, only the names being altered. Need I add that I take the part of "Teddy?"
It was just two days before that P. and O. boat had dumped me, bag and baggage, at Tilbury, and I was walking up and down the Strand bemoaning the fate that had sent me on leave in winter. Someone thumped me on the back, and a jovial voice baled greetings into my ear. I turned and found myself confronting Jerry Masters. Jerry and I had known each other long before I went to India, and soon we were in his club talking about old times.
"Are you doing anything for the next few days? asked Jerry.
"Why? no," I said, "I'm rather at a loose end."
"That's all right, then. You remember old Maj a sort of 'welcome home' house party for his daughter, who has been to a French finishing school."
"What's the daughter like?" I asked with interest.
"I haven't seen her for three years; but even then, at 17, she was very pretty; an only child. When I met the Major a few days ago he told me to be prepared for a shock when I meet Ann, his daughter, again, as the poor kid is a cripple now. She lost a leg just after she went to France. The old boy is still very upset, of course."
We talked on various subjects, then parted after I had promised to join the house party.
The following afternoon a taxi, with Jerry and I inside, stopped at the door of the major's old country mansion. The Major greeted us warmly, and after we had been taken to our rooms and made ourselves presentable, our host took us to the big hall, where about twenty young people were gathered about a huge log fire. Jerry was welcomed enthusiastically, and I was introduced all round.
A thrill ran through me when I was introduced to Ann. She rose to shake hands, merely steadying herself by resting her left hand on the chimney— piece. I think she was pleased that I showed no curiosity as regards her one-leggedness. Ann was wearing a long afternoon gown, and it wasn't until she sat down that her loss was noticeable.
My hostess and I got on well together from the first, and we talked on every subject in the world except her loss, until it was time to dress for dinner, and it was then that she referred to her condition. "Would you hand me my crutches from the corner, please?" she asked. Then, with a gay little laugh, "Please, don't look so solemn," as I placed the dainty black crutches under her arms. "I've been like this for nearly two years now, so you see I'm quite used to it, and have quite got over being sensitive about my crutches." With which she gracefully swung across the hall and up the stairs easily and effortlessly.
For dinner she wore a cream crinoline, from which her tiny foot, clad in a silver silk stocking and silver high-heeled shoe, peeped tantalisingly as she moved smoothly on a pair of very frail-looking white crutches. I sat next to her at dinner, and found myself more and more attracted to her.
After dinner we trooped into the big hall, and the Major left us to amuse ourselves. Ann herself put a dance record on the electric grammophone. Then, sitting down, she insisted that those who wished to could dance. I was near her, and with a roguish smile she asked: "Would you care to dance with me, Teddy? I can, you know!"
I eagerly went to her and, rising on her single leg, swaying on her high heel, she clung to me for support. It was thrilling to feel her so utterly dependent on me for support as she stepped out with her single slim leg. We danced together the rest of the evening.
During the days that followed we were together a great deal, and I showed how attractive I found her, because once she said, with a crooked smile: "Don't fall for me, Teddy; I am only a little cripple girl, you know."
I protested that I didn't think of her as such but, on the contrary, her single leg and crutches fascinated me.
Neither of us referred to her one-leggedness that day.
On the night previous to the guests' departure we were all going to appear in fancy dress. Ann would not say what hers was beyond saying that she would not be using her crutches, so I must meet her outside her room to help her downstairs.
At the appointed time I did so. She was dressed as a nymph, in a very brief tunic. Her arms and single leg were bare, so was the tiny pink foot. She smiled at my obvious admiration. "Carry me!" she said.
At the foot of the stairs she wiggled out of my arms and, amid murmurs of admiration, hopped swiftly over to her father where, clinging to his arm, she was the centre of admiring males, in spite of the fact that all the other girls were two-legged.
Dinner over, she took me to one side. "I'm going to start a game of hide seek. I will hide in the secret passage I showed you." Then, calling the others, "Hide and seek, you folk, Girls hide first."
Out went the lights while the Major counted 100. Then up went the lights and the search began. I, of course, headed for the secret passage. I pressed a rose in the panelling, and a door opened; but I saw no Ann! But immediately below me "Teddy, help me; I'm down here!"
There, a few feet in front of me, was an open trap-door. I peered down. A ladder led down from the top. In less than a minute I was holding Ann in my arms. "Are you hurt?" I asked.
"No, only shaken," she laughed, "I didn't know that trap was there!"
I carried her to her room, where I popped a certain vital question which, to my joy, she answered in the positive.
At supper the Major announced our engagement, and the wood nymph, poised on her little bare foot on a chair, was cheered by all her admirers, while I made sure she would not fall by holding her in the approved way.
Yours truly,
X.Y.Z.


London Life June 1, l93S p. 22
Overcoming A Difficulty
Dear Sir, — I have been much interested in the recent correspondence on high heels. All my life I have worn a high heel, as my left leg is 4 inches shorter than the right; so if I have a 2 inch heel for the right, it means a 6 inch one of the left.
Years ago I decided that my left shoe could be neat and comfortable as well, so I had the bootmaker made the high heel neatly curved like a Louis— XV one, and had him place about 2 inches of cork under the toe. The cork is inside the shoe, and there is no seam to show where it is. It is moulded into the curves of the foot, and looks very attractive; or at least my boy friend says so, and he should know, as we are to be married next month.
A high-heel shoe made like this is very comfortable, and I can walk in it all day without fatigue. This is because most of the weight is carried on the heel with just enough on the toes to give balance. Also there is no danger of the great toe joint becoming enlarged and misshapen, as the toes are not bent at an unnatural angle to the foot.
My fiancй and I think that some of the high heels worn would be very much improved if they were more curved at the back and sides. This would give a broader baser which is more comfortable. The pencil heels we think are silly, because they do not carry out the graceful curves of the limb above them.
The pictures of W. Macnaught we vote the best, because the very pretty girls wear shoes with such gracefully curved heels.
I liked the letter from "High Heeled Enthusiast", and I can assure her that if she will have her shoes made like mine she can wear heels much higher than her present limit with greater ease and comfort.
Some of the high boots are very good, but more care should be taken in fitting the tops. The distance between the sides of the top should gradually increase from almost nothing to about 1 inch, at the instep, and then gradually come almost together at the ankle, gradually widening to about 2 inches at the top.
I hope other so-called "cripples" will write to tell us about their dainty ultra shoes.
Yours truly,
Short-Legged Sally.


London Life June 8, l93S p. 23
Her Indoor Rig-Out
Dear Sir, — Some of your correspondents are asking for photos of one-legged girls, and I venture to send you one of my own. My right leg is amputated just above the knee, and I am quite happy on one crutch and do most of my homework hopping about without crutches.
I am quite used to my one-legged condition, and even get a thrill from it sometimes. I do not, of course, wear a short skirt out of doors, but this snap is of me in my indoor rig-out.
I am engaged to a dear boy who seems to find my one leg interesting and I am glad it is so.
Yours truly,
Happy Though Amputated.


London Life June 22, 1935 p. 20
Where Were Her Sympathisers?
Dear Sir, — I have a little complaint to register against some of your correspondents. Recently I had a letter published in the correspondence columns under the heading "Advice Wanted", but no advice was forthcoming. It regarded the question whether it was more becoming to wear an artificial leg or get about on a single leg with the assistance of a crutch. I wrote to "Candy" personally for some advice, but also in vain.
As I could not wait any longer I have had an artificial limb fitted, and have been using it indoors for a fortnight, but find it rather painful to manage, and very clumsy.
Another thing that has convinced me against the wearing of a mechanical right leg is the fact that I have become conscious that there is some unusual charm in being a monopede. A few recent experiences have assured me of the existence of a one-legged kink in the make-up of many males.
I am not strikingly beautiful, although I have a nice tall figure; but now that I have become agile enough with my single crutch to allow of the wearing of smart clothes, I am beginning to enjoy life again. I am now commencing to understand that despite the loss of a leg, one can still be happy.
I hope that other one-legged girl correspondents will continue writing their interesting letters to you. "One High Heel Only" seems to have met his ideal in his one-legged fiancйe Jean. I envy Jean in being able to wear such a lovely high heel. Nevertheless I fail to see why her male admirer should approve of a peg-leg and disapprove of an artificial limb. I think both equally ungainly for out-of-door work.
Anyhow, here's wishing for better and more correspondence on what is of necessity my interest.
Yours truly,
L.N.


London Life June 29, 1935 p. 7
Odd Shoes
Dear Sir, — Since writing you last I am glad to see that we have been having quite a lot of letters from one-legged lady readers. Congratulations especially to "Happy With One" and "One Legged wife", who have followed my example and sent photos of themselves.
What has became of "Edith", who just requested this feature?
Your double numbers have been very good just lately, especially the Jubilee number; but now how much more interesting it would have been, particularly to we monopedes, if it had contained a contribution from the pen of Mr. Wallace Stort! When are you favouring us again in this way?
I notice that some correspondents favour the use of the crutch only; and while admitting that this gives you one free hand, and it also tends to push one shoulders up and gives one a rather deformed appearance, which in time must grow on one.
Another feature of your correspondence has been the number of letters from men who are admirers of limbless girls. This feeling among men is far more extensive than one might imagine, as I can speak with experience.
I have persuaded my husband to write you after such a good lead, and he has promised to do so.
I have been wondering if any one-legged ladies have the same trouble as I have with the shoe-shops. No shop here will sell me one shoe only. I always have to take the pair, with the consequence that I have a number of left shoes which are, of course, no use to me.
When I first had my leg amputated my friend, who I mentioned in my last letter had lost her right leg and luckily took the same size — in shoes as I did, so the pair did for the two of us. Now, of course, this arrangement is no use to her, since she recently had the other leg taken off.
Although I have tried to wear an artificial leg, my doctor tells me I will never be able to, as my stump is too sensitive. So you see these shoes will be of no use to me ever.
I wonder if any lady with a left leg size 5 would put an advertisement in your sales and wants column, and I will forward particulars. Two of my friends in my experience have lost their left leg, and in each of the photos that have been published this is also the case.
Yours truly,
Single High Heel.


London Life July 27, 1935 pp. 41-43
A Broken Bride
by Lawless
(See stories!...)


London Life July 27, 1935 p. 64
High-Heel For Monopede
Dear Sir, — I write to tell you that I have succumbed to the high heel charm. Whether it is the wonderful illustrations of high heels in "London Life" that conquered me, I cannot say.
As your readers probably know by now, my right leg is missing just below the hip, the result of an accident some two years ago. I have become quite agile with my crutches, having now decided that two crutches give one a less ungainly gate than a single one.
A short while ago I noticed a monopede wearing a high heeled shoe and looking smart and chic into the bargain. "Candidus" advised me against wearing a high-heel, but I have failed to see her objections. I have a 3 inch heeled patent court shoe, and intend aiming even higher.
My foot being rather small — size 4 — I shall probably find it rather difficult. Nevertheless I intent to try. I have now got over to some extent the feelings of regret I felt at the loss of my right leg.
At first I was very self-conscious and rarely ventured out on my crutch. Now, however, I find that life is worth living, although with a single leg one is denied most of its pleasures.
"London Life" has done a great deal towards convincing me that a one-legged girl can be happy. Your correspondents have written and shown how a girl can be happy though one-legged. I hope they will write again and tell of their experiences.
In a recent number "X.Y.Z." told a remarkable story of a one-legged girl. She must be extremely active to dance although possessing only one leg. I have attempted and failed lamentably. However, I have taken up refereeing at hockey, and although it is a poor makeshift for the original sport, I enjoy it.
We one-legged girls are often faced with the problem of having no sport to keep us physically fit. Without dancing, hiking, tennis, golf, etc, what is there? I have not yet found myself able to use a single leg in any sport. Perhaps your readers can suggest some means of keeping a one-legged girl in trim.
"Crutches" and now "Legless" has my sympathy. I shall steer clear of anything which might endanger my remaining leg. It is bad enough to be without one leg.
As for losing both I dread the thought. I have lived far too active a life to be able to endure it.
Even now, despite the two years since I walked with both my legs, and despite all the attention I attract, there are occasions when walking on crutches and minus a right leg that I feel gloomy about my disability. This is probably due to the fact that as I write my room overlooks a tennis court, where a party of boys and girls are playing.
At the moment I feel a decided tinge of regret at the sight of that useless stump where my right leg should be.
Yours truly,
L.N.



User avatar

Topic Author
Bazil
Старожил
Posts: 514
Joined: 01 Sep 2017, 23:35
Reputation: 283
Sex: male
Has thanked: 698 times
Been thanked: 630 times
Russia

Re: Letters to the magazine "London Life" 1924-1941

Post: # 25327Unread post Bazil
10 Feb 2018, 10:23

London Life July 27, 1935 p. 60
Odd Shoes
Dear Sir, — I noticed recently a letter on "Odd Shoes". The writer will find that any good maker will get a single shoe made for her. Like her, I have my left leg amputated, but my single shoes with high slender heels are made for me in Belgium through a London maker at slightly above the half cost of a pair.
I must confess that my one-legged condition has given me many a thrill and I enjoy being on my slender black crutches, or hopping about the house without their aid.
My leg was taken off when I was ten. At first I was wheeled about in a chair, but soon got my balance and faced the world on my single leg. A favourite game of my playmates was to run away with my crutches, leaving me to hop desperately after them, sometimes falling down and then getting up again, or, crawling on my hands.
I think it is the helplessness of a limbless girl which appeals to some men, just as the helplessness of a girl on extremely high heels does. At any rate, as I grew up I found I was attractive, and I began to pay attention to my frocks and shoes, and would practice for hours before a pier-glass to get a graceful swing on my crutches. My empty skirt and single high-heeled slipper began to fascinate me, and I even bought some smart silk pyjamas and, an artificial limb does not attract me, but I have a black slender pin leg which I sometimes wear, and find the tap of its rubber tip rather fascinating. Altogether I find myself
A Happy One-Legged Girl


London Life August 10, 1935 p. 21
How They Saved On Shoes
Dear Sir, — The number of letters from male admirers of monopedes which have been published recently in "London Life" makes me wonder if my experiences will interest some of your readers.
While quite young, I remember the queer feeling that I experienced whenever I saw a girl walking with the aid of crutches. This feeling I kept absolutely to my self, believing that it was in some way unique, and it was through your paper that I learned otherwise. I think it was about 1928 that I picked up a copy containing an article by Mr. W. Stort entitled "The Fascination of the One-legged Girl", which opened my eyes to the fact that I was by no means alone in my feelings towards monopedes.
About this time I met my fate in the girl who was to be my wife, and we fell in love in the usual way and were soon engaged, she being a charming girl, full of life and fond of tennis and, in fact, all sports, and life seemed very good. Twelve months later when we were planning our wedding and new home, my fiancйe met with an accident.
I was away from the town at the time, and when I had the wire I rushed home and to the hospital to see my dear one, who lay so still and white, and then turned to the doctor and asked what were the extent of the injuries.
His reply was like a terrific punch. He said: "I am sorry to tell you that we shall have to amputate her left leg, there being no chance to save it."
My fiancйe was in hospital nearly six months, and then I fetched her to her home, and during that evening when we were alone she very tearfully asked me to break off our engagement, stating that a "helpless cripple could be no use for me."
I pointed out that although she was helpless now, in a few months she would soon adapt herself to her new conditions. And then for the first time I told her about my limbless complex and that, strange as it must seem to her, I actually loved her more with a single leg than I did before.
She thought first that I was merely making light of the situation; but later, when she saw that I was really earnest, she began to see my view and to cheer up.
Then followed some days which to me were thrilling, teaching her to balance on a pair of crutches, an art I must admit she mastered soon about the house, but although I tried my most persuasive methods I could never get her past the front door. She was too self-conscious to appear in the street on her crutches, and whenever we went out insisted on travelling in a wheel-chair which her mother had bought, and with her single leg wrapped round with a rug.
This procedure went on for over six months, and I was beginning to think I would never get her out of the chair habit, when something changed the whole aspect.
While in hospital, my fiancйe had made fast friend of the girl in the next bed, partly because she was a jolly girl, and also they could console each other, for she had lost her right leg.
This girl, whom I will call Joan, lived about fifteen miles away, and although they had corresponded, had never seen each other since leaving hospital, and it was about this time that Joan wrote that she was visiting our town and would like to see us — a wish that resulted in an invitation for the week-end.
I took my fiancйe to the station — in her chair, of course and shall always remember her look when the train drew in and Joan hopped nimbly out of the carriage, reaching back for a pair of the thinnest and daintiest elbow crutches I had ever seen, and which she quickly adjusted under her arms and swung across the platform to the place where we waited.
It was about the time when skirts were worn very short, and she was wearing a smart little black costume, the skirt just reaching her knee, and tight. No one with two legs could have worn it. She also wore a blue fox fur and a chic hat, a grey silk stocking and a patent court shoe with a 3 inch heel.
After the usual exchange of greetings, Joan asked the meaning of the chair, to which my fiancйe had to admit, with rather ashamed face, I thought, that she had never been out in public on crutches — a fact that amused Joan immensely, for she seemed to revel in the many glances that followed her wherever she went, and when I suggested that I should get a taxi she would not hear of it, and insisted on walking home with us.
It was surprising how quickly and gracefully she swung along without any apparent effort.
Later in the day, when my fiancйe was absent from the room, Joan asked me about her reluctance to walk out in the street, and was observing that she was missing some of the best things in life owing to her self— consciousness, and then suggested that during her visit she would do her best to alter things, to which I heartily agreed and, to cut a long story short, we managed to get her walk round the park, which was not very far away, that same evening.
The next day, being Saturday, Joan wanted to do some shopping, and finally persuaded my fiancйe to go too. So about eleven o'clock that morning I watched the two of them swinging down the street together.
Among other purchases, Joan wanted some shoes. When they arrived at the shop they discovered that they both took the same size, and as my fiancйe had a right leg and Joan a left, the smart salesman had little difficulty in selling them several pairs, an economical arrangement that lasted several years and was brought to an unfortunate end; but I must tell you of that another time.
Suffice to say that from then on my fiancйe began to lose her sensitiveness and was soon to be seen about the street by herself — a thing I had ceased to hope for.
We had married soon after this, and were fortunate in getting a nice little flat. My wife, as I will now call her, still finding stairs the most difficult things, we thought a flat the ideal abode.
My wife wore a white gown, and I had a pair of crutches made finished in silver, and she wore a silver shoe with a high heel, the effect being charming.
We had planned for Joan to be bridesmaid, but this was cancelled owing to unforeseen circumstances, much to our disappointment.
No doubt many of your readers will recognise my wife in the letters recently published under the signature "Single High Heel".
Yours truly
Husband Of S.H.H.


London Life August 31, 1935 p. 48
Special Fare For The Crippled
Dear Sir, — I write to congratulate you on the excellent standard of recent numbers of "London Life" Especial praise is due for the increase in the number of pages devoted to correspondence.
I fail to see the logic in the arguments advanced by those who maintain that the wearing of high heels is injurious to one's health. Although only possessing a single leg, I have worn an ultra-high heel for some years now. In my case the strain, if any, should be considerably greater than usual. Nevertheless I can vouch that I have never suffered the least inconvenience.
One-legged girls will find the slit skirt a decided advantage to them. I have had a few made and find them a great help in getting about. The should be slit to just above the knee. It will then be found that by wearing a slit skirt, getting in or out of trams or mounting steps becomes a much easier task. I appreciate the viewpoint of a correspondent whose one-legged girl-friend wore a narrow hobble skirt, but I can assure him that it does not make things easier to wear such a skirt.
Like most of your correspondents, I am also wearing a peg-leg for indoor work. With a pair of shorts it is the ideal method of getting about the house. However, I still maintain that a peg-leg looks hideous when worn out of doors, and deprives a one-legged girl of all her charms.
Again I would like to request you, Mr. Editor, to supply us one-legged girls with some special fare. We have been amongst your keenest supporters, and I think we deserve such a treat in the columns of "London Life". What about a Wallace Stort story, or anything along these lines? Why not give us a few pages of photographs and illustrations of one-legged girls wearing peg-legs or on crutches?
I hope you will consider these suggestions seriously this time.
Yours truly,
One-Legged Ursula
South Africa


London Life September 14, 1935 p. 23
Overcoming A Physical Defect
Dear Sir, — Some of your readers would, I believe, be very interested in two charming girls who live not far from the writer. For their benefit I propose to describe them.
The first girl is a monopede, having lost her right leg from above the knee. She is a true blonde, petty and with a good figure. Always charmingly dressed in every detail, she invariably wears on her dainty foot a high heeled shoe with ankle strap. The heel I should judge is never less than 4 inches.
The other day I saw her waiting for a bus, and she was wearing a pretty red shoe with a heel obviously nearer 5 inches high. The shoe carefully matched in colour to her speckled summer dress. This fascinating monopede uses a single smart and light crutch in a graceful manner — shoulders level and a slow walk — and always looks most attractive. Long pendant earrings usually complete her "chic" appearance.
On one occasion only I have seen her out-walking on a pin-leg, and I think she looked more charming than ever wearing this. She managed very adeptly and used the leg without any jerky motion.
The second girl I see quite frequently. She has a left leg slightly shorter than her right, and naturally has a considerable limp. She is slight and attractive-looking, and she has always worn high-heeled shoes. Lately, however, she has begun to have shoes specially made for her, apparently to disguise her limp somewhat.
She has not forsaken the high heel for her normal right leg, but is wearing a left shoe with a heel that appears at least 7 inches high. To watch her walk on this amazing heel is very fascinating, of course. She appears to be practically on tip-toe with he left foot and yet manages perfectly gracefully. The shoe is of a kind that one would imagine was made for show purposes only, and it seems incredible that it could be worn easily and usefully outdoors.
The other day I walked behind her for some distance, which included the crossing of a wide cobbled street. It was astonishing the way she managed a 5 inch heel on one foot and this unusual 7 inch heel on the other while walking over the uneven and difficult street surface. She seemed to have complete confidence and only had difficulty with one step with her left foot, when the thin tapering 7 inch heel slipped an inch or so.
I do not know whether these two girls are acquainted, but it occurs to me that it would be a unique demonstration of "high-heel skill" if one saw the two walking together — the monopede adroitly balancing on a single 5 inch heel with one crutch, so accompanied by the other girl jauntily stepping on a similar heeled shoe on one foot and the amazing and graceful 7 inch heel on the other!
Incidentally I have often wondered why other girls with the difficulty of a short leg do not wear a very high heeled shoe on one foot, even if it meant a flat on the other, instead of the more usual "built-up" boot. After all, a 7 inch heel on one shoe as against a flat heel on the other would compensate for a considerable difference in the length of leg, and looks very attractive. I wonder what your other readers think.
Yours truly,
High-Heel Admirer


London Life September 28, 1935 p. 56
Not So Happy On One
Dear Sir. — This is really an answer to "One-legged Ursula" who wrote in the August double number.
I have been a regular reader of "London Life" for the past five years, and was first attracted to it by an article I saw by Wallace Stort, and since then I have seen very many letters from one-legged — or should I say from people who say that they are one-legged?
I have seen her request that we should have a one-legged number many times, too, but have at last given up all hope of ever seeing a one-legged number in this or any other paper.
There have been very many promises, also from one-legged writers, to send there photos if only somebody else would send theirs in first.
We have had three such photos in the past from "Single High Heel", "A Happy Monopede", and the last from "Happy With One", but the person who asked for photos, in return for which she promised to send her own — her name was Edith — has just died at death common to so may of your correspondents.
Is Wallace Stort dead also?
Many thanks are due to "Lawless" for his first story, but it would have been ever so much more probable, if he had left Pixie with one leg.
Still, more power to his elbow, and may we have another of his stories in the very near future.
I had better explain my interest in this type of story now, I suppose.
I am myself a cripple of some ten years' standing. My left leg was taken off in August 1925 as the result of a pillion smash. The rider of the cycle, to whom I was engaged, soon let me see that he was in no way interested in a one-legged woman, and the engagement was ended.
I see no compensation at all in the 9 inch stump that is all I have for a left leg, and as I am not wealthy enough to spend 30 Ј on an artificial limb I have just made the most of a crutch; but it is a very poor substitute for the flesh-and-blood leg that I lost.
I am stared at wherever I go, and some of the comments are not at all flattering, as I still think that I should dress as well as I can afford, and although I am a cripple I do not see any reason for being dowdy or old— fashioned and keep abreast of the fashions.
I have worn the split skirt that "One-legged Ursula" mentions, and it is really a great help in both walking and going upstairs, and also in boarding public vehicles.
Yours truly
R.A.D.


London Life October 12, 1935 p. 23
A Warning To Monopedes
Dear Sir. — I have found time at last to write you again, and in particular to comment on the excellent Summer number.
It was good to see that you have acceded to the request of several limbless correspondents and given us the story of "Pixie" by "Lawless", but I venture to suggest that an illustration by your clever artist, Miss E. Stanton, would have added to the appeal of this story. I am sorry to see that letters from our monopedes have been dropping off just lately. Are they on holidays? We should like to hear from "One-Legged Wife" and "Happy with One" again.
As some of your readers spoke of the advantages of the peg-leg or pin-leg in getting about the house, I decided that I would try one myself, as crutches are a nuisance when one is trying to do housework.
This was against the wishes of my husband and against the orders of my doctor, who warned me never to use either a peg-leg or artificial leg on account of the nature of my amputation, and I have since suffered for it, so that I am warning my fellow-readers not to go against their doctors' orders in this matter.
Best wishes for "London Life" and please give us some more monopede stories.
Yours truly,
Single High Heel.


London Life October 19, 1935 p. 24
Advice To Monopedes
Dear Sir, — I have from time to time seen letters in your paper from monopedes and other girls who have had one or more limbs removed, stating that they wear short skirts slit up the sides, and long silk hose and high heels, in order to add allure to their one-leggedness.
As a lame girl myself, one with a withered leg, I feel that I'm empowered to criticise my fellow-sufferers; and much as I sympathise with their infirmity, I fear that the criticism may not be kind.
As a cripple myself, I know that any from of lameness is not attractive, but only abhorrent to the world at large, and to make a parade of our unfortunate crippled limbs alienates us from all that sympathy which alone makes our lot bearable.
In the schools for crippled children we are taught two important things. One is, Do not dwell upon your infirmity. Disregard it as much as possible, and refrain from talking about the matter or attracting public attention to your defects.
May I, through the columns of your paper, pass on this good advice to monopedes and others who seek, by a display of their crippled limbs, to attract admiration?
Monopedes should dress prettily and attractively, but in such a way as to disguise, not to reveal, their unfortunate condition. Short, split skirts that reveal details of the surgeon's art are hideous and abhorrent. Oh, yes, there will be plenty of glances from the public, but they will not be glances of admiration.
As a crippled girl myself, I know that strange, perverse kink in cripples that makes them want to shock their more fortunate brothers and sisters by a parade of our misfortune, but such an attitude never plays, and heaven alone knows that our lot is hard enough without us making it all the more difficult by setting ourselves out to be precise and trying to make a glory out of what we know is only a hideous misfortune.
This unhealthy cult of short-skirted defiance by monopedes and cripples will only add more to the great burden that we must already carry.
Sweet personal daintiness, and graceful, becoming gowns which hide our misfortunes, will do far more to make us acceptable to the opposite s*ex than all the perverse parading of our ills in the world. Let us try to adopt a more healthy attitude than those of the monopede readers whose letters I see printed in your columns.
Yours truly
Crippled Girl


London Life October 19, 1935 p. 24
Questions For Girls To Answer
Dear Sir, — I have been interested in the various letters from girl monopedes, and am wondering if any of the fair s*ex feel the same attraction for one-legged boys that seems to exist in some of my own s*ex for girls with a single leg or arm.
I am a one-legged boy of 22 myself, and my left side possesses only a short leg stump of a few inches. Now, a girl monopede's skirt conceals her amputation to a great extent, but my pinned-up trouser-leg, alas, only shows it too plainly and makes me very shy of seeking girlfriends.
However, I am much in love with a pretty dark-haired girl, but dare not confess it for fear she should dislike my single leg. I am a great admirer of high heels, and this particular girl wears the most adorable little stilt heels, and walks on them with the greatest ease and grace.
I wonder if some of your lady readers would tell me whether they themselves would feel a one-legged husband an utter impossibility, or whether my condition would excite their pity and love.
In the town I live there are two one-legged girls, and both are happily married. I should be glad to hear your lady readers' views on my case.
Yours truly,
Single Leg


London Life October 26, 1935 p. 52
A Glass Leg?
Dear Sir, — From my early school days I was always thrilled with unaccountable emotions when I saw a girl with one leg. I am unable to explain why, but since reading your paper (now for many years) I find that I am not alone in this respect.
My first encounter with a monopede was in my school days. I passed her each day on her way to school.
On another occasion I was on a ferry-boat when a monopede of approximately 25 years of age came aboard wearing a peg-leg, in company with, I should presume, her sister. I noticed when I followed behind them as we disembarked that each time her peg-leg reached the ground as she walked there was a slight clicking sound. At the top steps of the landing-stage they halted, and the monopede made some adjustment to her peg-leg. When this was completed, which only occupied a few moments, they continued their way, the clicking noise ceased. How I was thrilled as I followed them!
My next thrill took place some little while later, when I was surprised at seeing a girl running towards me wearing a peg-leg. She was making wonderful speed, and used her peg-leg wonderfully well. I do not think I have seen anyone use a peg-leg as well as this girl did.
It seems she had it made the correct length, erring a little on the short side which permitted her to carry it forward when walking in a straight line and not in a half circle. This same girl, I regret to say, now wears an artificial limb and now holds no fascination for me. Did she but know.
Some years ago I was in the country and came to a rather large-size ditch nearly full of water, which had an improvised bridge across in the form of a 9 inch plank. At the bridge stood a monopede supported by only a single crutch. She was nervous to cross on her own. Here I was thrilled to be of real service. I asked her if I might carry her across, but she thought the best way would be if I went first and permitted her to follow holding on to me with her one disengaged hand. Needless to say, I did not hurry with the proceedings. Having made one another's acquaintance, we continued our journey together. During the conversation, I learnt that she had lost her leg during childhood, due to a fall, and that it was amputated at the hip. Thus she was able to wear an artificial leg, but she stated that she would have loved to have been able to wear a peg-leg.
She told me of an experience that she had encountered only a few months previous. This was to the effect that she had the misfortune to break her crutch some half-mile from home, necessitating her hopping for the rest of the journey.
Shoes were her only problem. She said she had many new left shoes (having lost her left leg), but she used these left shoes on her right foot when indoors.
She is now married and has two bonny girls.
"One-legged Ursula", in a letter to you, stated that, in her opinion, a peg-leg looks hideous. This I absolutely disagree with. Most of your monopede readers have agreed, at one time or another, that an artificial limb is quite all right until you begin to walk, then the illusion is revealed only too plainly and is most ungainly. Now, this being so, all it leaves us with are crutches or a peg-leg to assist us in getting about. Now of the two, crutches occupy both hands (only one if only one crutch is used). But a peg-leg is a modified form of a crutch in its way, leaving arms and hands free and at time leaving what is apparent obvious. Which is what is wanted.
My ideal peg-leg would be the thinnest possible to obtain combined with safety. I would even experiment with a glass one having chromium fittings at the base to take a rubber tip. Thus creating an almost invisible leg. The idea is rather good, don't you think?
Now let all lady monopede readers to take up their pens and write, giving some of their experiences due to being one-legged and send photos. Let's have a peg-leg photo, please. I should like to see a photo of "One-legged Ursula" wearing a peg-leg and shorts. Please oblige, Ursula.
Let us have a peg-leg story (illustrated) by either Mr. Stort or "Lawless" within the next week or two.
Yours truly,
Peg Leg Admirer.


London Life November 2, 1935 p. 23
One Is Better Than None
Dear Sir, — It was with interest that I read the story of the monopedes who saved shoes by wearing one pair between them.
Some time ago "A New Monopede" wrote about a club for one-legged girls. It is a pity that there is no such thing in existence.
I now use a pair of elbow crutches for smart wear, and find that they do less to crumple one's clothes. Time is indeed a great healer. During that nerve-wracking period immediately after the amputation of my leg the future looked gloomy and black indeed. Now I have come to see that life minus a leg has its bright side as well.
Two years ago I would not have believed that some day I would be so happy. It required courage to ignore the stares of curious people in a world where, with the advent of artificial limbs, a monopede is a very rare sight indeed. At first I used to feel those countless stares at my single leg, but today I go shopping in the crowded street and, were it not for the feel of the crutches in my hands, scarcely noticing the absence of my right leg.
I am managing better every day with my new high-heeled shoes with the 3 inches patent Court as the highest I can use so far.
My friends are all surprised at the way I have come out of my shell during the past six months. "London Life" has in some measure caused this. I have read how happy other one-legged girls were, and began to see that there was no use in moping.
Many one-legged girls are thrilled at the little attentions their single— leggedness attracts. Pleasant as these attentions might seem, I, for my part, do not derive much enjoyment from them. For a man to give me a seat near the door in a bus, when there are other vacant seats, is a little attention I do not relish, as it shows only too obviously my handicap through being one-legged. I would far better hop as far as I can to the vacant but more inaccessible seat, and thus still retain my independence.
The other day when a gentleman offered me his seat, I politely refused and made my way, although with some difficulty, right to the other end of the bus. Such is the spirit of independence, and being minus a leg is not going to deprive me of it.
I must apologise, Mr. Editor, for having encroached on your valuable space to such an extent, but I have acquired the habit of pouring out all my little troubles as a one-legged girl in the columns of "London Life".
Yours truly,
L.N.


London Life November 9, 1935 p. 22
Monopede Psychology
Dear Sir, — As I am a foreigner, my English is very bad. If you like to publish this letter I beg you respectfully to letter it out before publishing. But I hope altogether that I will be able, notwithstanding my wanting of knowledge of your language, to make my idea clear.
In your interesting paper the phenomenon of attractiveness of crippled girls has been treated. This topic interests me very much, and it is mainly because it is treated in "London Life" I am a regular reader of it. In fact "London Life" is the only paper in the world — so far as I know, at least — in which appear letters of sympathy with cripples.
In your number of October 19, "Crippled Girl" expresses the view that crippled girls are not attractive at all. She means, of course, that nobody can be attracted to them. She adds the advice to her unfortunate sisters to hide their mutilation as much as possible.
I fear her advice will exercise a very bad influence on the feelings of her sisters in misfortune.
For those, who are already unfortunate enough, it must be a little consolation, to know that some members of the opposite s*ex are specially attracted to them, and that for these men their crippled state is a kind of superiority instead of inferiority, as it is, of course, in the eyes of the big public.
It is, of course, difficult to estimate the percentage of the male population who are affected by monopedes, but their number cannot be so small. I think, because I, being an orthopaedist, have seen in my practice so many amputees marry after their amputation, that the number of admirers must be many times greater than one would be inclined to think at first.
To one-legged girls I would give this counsel: Don't conceal your misfortune. In the eyes of people you can't conceal it effectively, since no artificial leg really hides the mutilation — save in case of amputation of the foot; but even then, if you get married, your husband will discover your amputation. In the eyes of people like myself, you harm yourself by concealing it, because you are much more attractive on crutches or a peg— leg than with an artificial leg.
I don't believe a "normal" man will marry a crippled girl, so all concealment is absolutely useless. For a crippled girl the only chance to be loved is to be loved by a man who has my ideas. And to attract such a man, you must show your "misfortune" instead of concealing it.
My own wife is a monopede, and I adore her, only because she assists me in my business she is obliged to wear an artificial leg while working. But at home and on Sundays when we go out she is always on crutches, with relatively short skirt, high heel, etc. In one word, she adds as much allure to her one-leggedness as possible.
"Crippled Girl" calls this "the perverse parading" of her ills. Well, let it be a perverse parading. If it is a perversion, it is certainly a very innocent one. And why should a one-legged girl not try to be attractive in the eyes of the only people who can be attracted by her? May be it is a perversion, but then a salutary one!
"Crippled Girl" mentions some lessons given in the schools for crippled children. The first one — "Do not dwell upon your inferiority" — is very good, in my idea. The second one — "Try to disguise your crippled state... etc" — is very bad, at least as concerning one-legged girls.
Of course one of the biggest attraction of a monopede lies in her easiness of movement, her being very alert, not withstanding her infirmity. But talking about the matter and attracting public attention to her defect can be very charming, if done in the right way.
All this applies, of course, also to lame girls.
Yours truly,
Monopede Admirer.


London Life November 23, 1935 p. 25
Her Loss Was Her Joy
Dear Sir, — A number of your one-legged readers have recently been wondering about the continued absence from your pages of stories and articles by Mr. Wallace Stort. I, too, have missed his extraordinary and fascinating stories, and have often wondered what has happened to him. One lady, a week or so back, suggested that he was dead. But I do hope that this is not so, and that one day we shall be able to welcome him back to "London Life".
Meanwhile, I should like to make a suggestion about his stories. I see that you are issuing in volume form a selection of the literary features published in "London Life" during a whole year. Don't you think it would be a good idea to issue in volume form the whole of the stories and articles written by Mr. Stort since he first started writing for you? I am sure there would be a big demand for the volume. Or, alternatively, why not reissue from time to time in "London Life" all his stories, with fresh illustrations by Miss Stanton? We older readers would welcome them, and new readers would, I am sure, find them something absolutely out of the ordinary.
I think I can claim that I read the very first stories Mr. Stort wrote for you years ago, and I remember how terribly thrilled I was to suddenly come across stories with one-legged heroines. I was at that time one-legged myself, and the curious thing about it was that though the stories thrilled me, I thought they couldn't possibly be true to life.
I was considered pretty and my one leg neat and shapely, I dressed well and used very lightly made, nicely shaped crutches. But although I knew many boys, I had no special boy of my own, and not one ever told me that he found my one leg attractive. I had, in fact, quite resigned to single blessedness (?) all my life.
But about a year later my remaining leg was amputated as a direct result of the accident through which I lost my first. And three years later, while at the seaside, I met the boy who is now my dear husband. He "fell" for me, as the saying is, at once, although I could only move about out of doors in my self propelled wheeled chair, as I still have to do, of course, when I am not in the car. He proved the actual truth of all the Wallace Stort stories and articles, for he told me very soon after we met that he was first attracted to me because of my loss!
We have been very happy together, and he still thinks me wonderful. Although I am only half a woman, with not a single leg to stand on! It never occurs to me to worry about my condition. I really and honestly never miss my limbs, and have got quite used to being without them. And I always remember with very great thankfulness that it was through my loss that I won my dear husband.
It may interest your many readers interested in the subject to know that my amputations were very remarkable of their kind, and not often a complete success as in my case. For both my legs were disarticulated, as the surgeons describe it, and have not even stumps in the proper sense of the word. All that I have below my hips are two plump pads of cushions of soft flesh without bone or muscle. I am glad to say they are quite perfect and symmetrical, and round off the trunk very neatly, and practically all traces of amputation scars have disappeared. In fact I have been told by surgeons who have examined me (and at one time I was quite a show-piece for eminent surgeons and students) that so perfectly was the double hip amputation performed that it might easily be considered that I had been born without any nether limbs.
Personally, as Fate decreed that I should be legless, I prefer to be without stumps. I am quite active in the house, getting about with the greatest of ease by swinging along the carpet on my hands. I can jump from the floor on to a chair, and from a chair to the floor with an agility that astonishes my friends. I can run downstairs on my hands as easily as any normal person (and, by the way, all this activity keeps me slim, I am glad to say; stoutness always threatens people in my condition), so stumps would therefore be only a nuisance to me, always in the way, always in danger of getting hurt, etc. So I can say quite cheerfully and honestly that it is just as well I haven't any.
Goodness, I have written a terribly long letter. I hope you won't mind. And I hope that if Mr. Stort is still in the land of the living, you will persuade him to write for us some more of his truly wonderful stories.
Yours truly,
Happy Legless Wife


London Life November 30, 1935 p. 63
Adding An Inch To The Heel
Dear Sir, — You number among your correspondents many who describe their experiences when training to wear tight corsets and high heels. Although I do not go to extremes with tight lacing, I can now wear quite a high-heeled shoe.
When I first lost my left leg I resigned myself to wearing a low-heeled shoe, though before my amputation I used to wear high heels, and it was about the time of our marriage that my husband suggested me trying something smarter than the brogue I was wearing at the time, but at first this did not appeal to me, for I imagined that I should feel unsteady balanced on a single high heeled shoe with my crutches.
However my husband took an old shoe of mine with a heel of about two inches high, to a cobbler and requested him to add an inch to the heel.
Then, when I had got used to this height in a week or so, wearing it about the house, he added another inch, and later still another inch, until I was wearing a shoe with a 4 inch heel, and through doing this in easy stages I found it quite comfortable.
Of course this method upset the balance of the shoe in that it did no compare in looks to a shoe that has been made with a heel of this height, but it was, nevertheless, good training for me, and I can recommend it to any of your readers, whether they have one foot or two.
I am enclosing a snap which my husband took when the heel was 3 inches high.
When I was completely confident in my ability to wear a high heel, my husband bought me a beautiful red kid court shoe with a 4 inch heel, in which I delight when strutting about the room, much to his approbation.
I do not wear this extreme heels out of doors because apart from attract undue attention, and probably ridicule, one cannot be too careful, particularly when streets are wet.
We are looking forward to the Xmas number and hope that there will be a contribution from Wallace Stort or "Lawless" and any other letters from fellow monopedes.
Yours faithfully,
Single High Heel.


London Life November 30, 1935 p. 75
An Unabashed Monopede
Dear Sir, — In reply to "Peg Leg Admirer", I enclose my photo, if you care to reproduce it. Sorry I cannot send a peg-leg one, but I don't wear it. I know a young girl who does, and will try to persuade her to send hers.
I lost my leg just above the knee, and wear a high heel on my single foot, and also use one crutch. I am not ashamed of my one-legged condition, but I was pleased to find that it has its interest to some people.
Yours truly,
Another Monopede.


London Life December 12, 1935 p. L3
Overcoming Her Loss
Dear Sir, — As I have been reading your wonderful paper for some time now, I must say that I find it a different magazine from the usual run of illustrated weeklies. Your letters from various monopedes makes interesting reading, also photos of them. Now, Mr. Editor, as you have not had any one— armed ladies to write stating their experiences, I wish to say that as a small child I was unfortunate in losing my left arm at the elbow, and have only two fingers and thumb on my right hand. For working I have a leather socket with hook attached which straps on my rounded stump.
Like most cripples, I do not consider myself anything but just a normal woman. For going out I use an artificial arm, which is well gloved to match my right hand. The two missing fingers I stuff tightly with wadding, so I am not in any way embarrassed by rude stares or sympathising remarks.
I wear 3 inch stilt heels — the highest, unfortunately, I can wear, as I have a small foot. I am very slim, so do not tight-lace. My ears are pierced and carry heavy gold rings.
Yours truly,
One Armer.


London Life December 14, 1935
A Cheery Souled Monopede
Dear Sir, — It was with great interest that I read the letter by "R.A.D." in the September double number of "London Life". This ought to be pretty good evidence to you Mr. Editor, that there would be a keen demand for a number containing special fare for your obviously large circle of one— legged girl readers.
"Lawless", who seemed to have replaced Wallace Stort, is congratulated on his story some weeks ago. I hope he will write again soon.
"R.A.D." does not seem to be very happy with her single leg.
I have been amputated only one year less than she has, but have already adapted myself to the greatly changed circumstances, and am today almost as happy as ever. I realise that a stump a few inches in length is but a poor compensation for a sound limb, but I have also realised that no amount of fretting or moping will bring that leg back.
Undoubtedly, having to hobble through life on crutches and minus a leg is not a very alluring prospect, but at the same time it is not worth while letting the loss of a limb spoil one's entire life. I have grown to ignore the stares of curious people, and turn a deaf ear to all unflattering remarks, which in my experience have been very rare.
As for the wearing of an artificial limb, by being derived of wearing one I can assure "R.A.D." that she has not missed much. I wore an artificial limb for some months. The leg was quite stiff and rigid, the shortness of my stump preventing the successful manipulation of the articulated knee-joint, and I could only walk at a very slow rate.
Progressing through the streets in this painful manner I was stared at more than at present. The inability of "R.A.D." to acquire an artificial limb is therefore almost a blessing in disguise. However, she is well advised to use two crutches instead of a solitary one. A single crutch gives one a clumsy, unattractive gait, and one can certainly walk much faster and easier with a pair of crutches.
I am just 26 now, and it is about nine years since my leg was amputated. I have thus been a monopede for what is actually the best period of any girl's life. Nevertheless, I make bold to say that these years, despite my crippled state (awful words!), have not been unhappy ones. I have at all times earned my own living — a great factor in assisting one to forget the numerous disabilities one must undergo. At all times I have taken a great pride in my own personal appearance, paying particular attention to shoes and stockings. For, after all, if one has only one leg, it stands to reason that the gaze of most people will be cast at that single nether limb, so it may as well look attractive as high-heeled shoe and fine silk stocking can make it.
My advice to "R.A.D." is to teach herself to ignore the fact that people look at her, to find something to make her forget that she has only a stump where her left leg should be, and in general to make the best of those opportunities which life offer even to the woman who through a cruel fate finds herself deprived of a leg.
Yours truly,
One-Legged Ursula.
Cape Town.


London Life December 21, 1935 p. 23
The Penalty Of A Leg
Dear Sir, — I have been very interested in the recent correspondence from and about monopedes, and in particularly in the letter by "Monopede Admirer", who voices my opinion entirely when he states that a one-legged girl is far more attractive when she is nimbly and gracefully using crutches than she can ever be walking on a peg-leg or artificial one.
"Crippled Girl" is, I think, rather bitter in her criticism of her fellows, as I do not remember any correspondent stating that lameness was attractive in itself, but the ability to overcome it. Her quotation of the school's advice to disregard the crippled state as much a possible and to disguise it is apparently what most of your correspondents are doing.
Sometime ago, unknown to me, my wife went to a surgical dealer and was fitted for a peg-leg, taking the advice of several of your readers who sing their praises and advantages. You can imagine my surprise on arriving home one evening to see her tottering across the hall to me, supported only on a slender peg-leg and entirely without her crutches. Of course, I rushed to support her, but she assured me she was safe enough, and proved it by proceeding me across the lounge and into the dining room, where she told me that she had been practising for days before letting me into the secret.
Of course I remonstrated with her and reminded her that her doctor warned her never to use any form of artificial leg, for the bone which had been so badly shattered in her accident would never bear one. This she pooh-poohed, and tried to point out the advantages of not having to be bothered with crutches while on her household duties; and, in fact, she persisted in using it for a week or so until her stump became so painful that I saw her doctor, who, after a careful examination, said that he was afraid that it would have to be completely removed right to the hip.
However, after careful attention for a good many weeks, he has avoided this, much to my relief, for I know that my wife has a dread of another operation after her past experience, when she was in hospital over six months and had fourteen operations.
No doubt, many of your readers find a peg-leg very useful, especially when they cannot afford the more expensive artificial leg, and I myself see a girl several times a week who is employed at a factory near my office, who has used a peg-leg several years and has a wonderful carriage a she walks along. In fact, if you were walking behind her and did not look below her coat, you would never dream that she had but one leg.
There, in my opinion, comes the snag, that to see a smartly dressed girl, also good looking and in my experience most monopedes are pretty — and then to see a peg-leg protruding from her skirt completely spoils the effect. Crutches, preferably the elbow type, as they do not disturb the dress, are far smarter.
Yours truly,
Husband Of Single-Heel.


London Life December 28, 1935 p. 58
More Sympathetic Letters Wanted
Dear Sir. — Both my husband and I were disappointed in your Xmas number. While admitting that it was up to standard in the Art section, it contained nothing for your growing number of monopedes. Where also were the letters from monopedes, etc — the only two published were my own and the girl who signed herself "Another Monopede".
I was glad to see in "London Life" the first letter from an entirely legless girl. "Happy Legless Wife" does, indeed, sound happy, if one can judge from her letter; far happier than I should be, I am afraid, in like circumstances, although if someone had told me six years ago that I could be perfectly happy on one leg, I could not have believed them.
My friend Joan, who I mentioned in a previous letter had had to have her other leg removed, is getting on wonderfully well now, and we are hoping that she will be able to spend a few days with us in the New Year. She is a happy soul, and one never sees her with the blues, though she has suffered a lot.
She writes to say that she is now practising with a pair of artificial legs and finds it a trying and difficult job, though she has been managing splendidly to do everything for herself these past months.
I shall probably have some experiences to relate after her visit, so will now close.
P.S. — As several readers have requested a photo of a monopede wearing a peg-leg, and none has been sent, would you care to publish one if I sent it?
Yours truly,
Single High Heel.



User avatar

Topic Author
Bazil
Старожил
Posts: 514
Joined: 01 Sep 2017, 23:35
Reputation: 283
Sex: male
Has thanked: 698 times
Been thanked: 630 times
Russia

Re: Letters to the magazine "London Life" 1924-1941

Post: # 25328Unread post Bazil
10 Feb 2018, 10:24

1936

London Life January 4, 1936 p. 22
Disability Boots
Dear Sir, — I have been a reader of your paper for nearly twelve months, and am always interested in the correspondence pages, specially the letters of wearers of high heeled boots. There has been a number of letters from one-legged readers, but none, so far as I can remember, with my disability.
Four years ago, when I was 18, I received thigh and ankle injuries, and after 19 weeks in hospital I was informed that I had a right leg shorter than its fellow, and as a result I have a boot with a sole 4 inches thick and a heel 5 inches high. One result is that I can always indulge my fancy for high-legged boots, and have worn them ever since.
Also, owing to the injury to my ankle I have to wear irons on my right boot; but as my ankle is becoming stronger, I hope to dispense with my irons when at home in the evenings, so I am saving up for a pair with a heel to the left boot, although it will mean a thicker sole and a higher heel to my right boot.
Will any of your readers with a similar disability give their experiences.
I find men are fascinated by my boots, and am often followed home. Perhaps it is a change to see a pair of booted legs after so many thousands of stockings.
On one occasion I received a letter saying the writer thought it a "delightful disability". I also notice men like girls wearing glasses, and I have recently started wearing them, and have a pair of rim-less spectacles with gold side-pieces. The lenses are large and curved and kept highly polished. They certainly have an attraction for some people.
Can any reader tell me what is the record in shortening? Some time ago I saw a lady in a train who, seeing my boot, started speaking, and showed me hers, and as she raised her skirt I was astounded to see a boot with a sole which looked nearly 12 inches high, and she managed without leg-irons.
Please excuse a long letter, and I hope some of your readers will give particulars of their disability and let us have some photos of their special boots.
Yours truly,
Big Boot.


London Life January 11, 1936 p. 25
Our Attention To The Amputees
Dear Sir, — The letters from "Single High Heel", "Ursula", and others, show that the subject of monopedes is an attractive one to many of your readers. I can understand, however, that many amputees (to use the artificial limb makers' word) perhaps hesitate to send photos because of the publicity.
May I suggest that this can be avoided by either a half length photo or by turning the head so that the face is concealed?
With others I mourn the absence of Wallace Stort, and wish that you, Mr. Editor, could see your way to republish his articles, as I understand the early ones are now out of print.
To illustrate what I mean as to photos, I enclose one of myself, but doubt if it is clear enough for reproduction. I have had my left leg off about 5 inches from the hip, and have a boyfriend who has had a very similar amputation. We can both stand and hop without even a single crutch, and in the winter we often have a game of ping-pong together on our single legs, and can even manage a mild form of tennis in the summer, although this entails some falls for each of us.
I don't think we either of us worry about our one-legged condition. Everyone is extremely kind to me and I get many attentions which ordinary girls would not.
I look forward to "London Life", as it the only paper which gives any attention to us amputees.
Yours truly,
One-Legged Girl.


London Life January 11, 1936 p. 24
"Crippled Girl" Replies To Her Critics
Dear Sir, — In the current issue I see that "Husband of Single Heel" thinks that I have been severe in my criticism of my fellow-cripples. I do fee1 that he is doing me an injustice which I resent. The only people against which I am embittered are those of your readers who believe that the display of injured limbs is alluring and has erotic influences.
May I here point out what I think of Wallace Stort's stories. Wonder just what kink in his brain makes him enthuse upon lovely womanhood which has been spoiled by the surgeon's knife.
I realise that many people like his stories, but I do know that an even greater number are appalled and sickened by them.
I am all in favour of disguising the crippled state by pretty dressing that will hide the maltreated limb, and for that reason I agree with "Husband of Single Heel" when he states that crutches of a light and dainty make are preferable to peg-legs.
I often think that the correspondents who aver that their limblessness is attractive in itself is that they seek to cover up hideous reality by a pleasant fable in which they at last come to believe.
Getting away from reality is the necessary adjunct to every cripple's welfare, but to let it become an obsession which finally becomes nauseating to others shows evidence both of mental as well as bodily infirmity.
We cripples must face up to the realities of life and accept our bitter fate with as much cheerfulness as we can muster, but let the gods forbid that we come to glory in an exhibitionism that can only be compared to that of the Eastern beggar who exhibits filthy sores and wounds in order to extract alms from the crowds.
Imitators of Wallace Stort's unnatural heroines are doing nothing more nor less than attempting to solicit the alms of passion and attraction as well as a morbid sympathy by a too frank exhibition of heir maltreated torsos, is the opinion of
Crippled Girl.


London Life January 25, 1936 p. 49
Why Cripples Charm
Dear Sir, — I have read with considerable interest the letter from "Crippled Girl" and others on the subject of "Are Cripples Really Attractive?" and I beg of your courtesy a little space to bring forward a point or two which may have been overlooked by the debaters.
Nowadays the average girl is a mass of nerves. She wants to go places and do things all the time; dancing, dining or theatres. There is no repose in her nature — her rushed business and social life forbids it. She never takes time off to relax, and a week or so of her continued presence will reduce her friends to the merge of breakdown. Either the friendship is broken off, or else the continued fraying of taut nerves drives her men friends almost insane.
Not so the crippled girl; she relaxes because she must, and her natural handicap means that she must spend hours alone, either reading, sewing or writing, and therefore there is round the cripple an atmosphere of rest and relaxation that most men find comes as a welcome anodyne after trouble, strife, and the awful task of keeping up with exploits of their other girl friends.
Because the crippled girl society is soothing and restful, it comes as a welcome anodyne, and therefore no crippled girl can complain that she is short of men friends if she remembers that her own peculiar atmosphere of restful intelligence has the charm of a quiet country lane in direct contrast to the traffic ridden road which can be compared to Miss 1936.
Does the secret of the cripple's charm lie in the directions I have mentioned, rather than in the obviously fictional descriptions of Mr. Wallace Stort and other champions of limbless people?
Yours truly,
Happy But Crippled.


London Life February 8, 1936
Limbless People I Have Seen And Known
Dear Sir, — I have heard it stated on numerous occasions that one-legged people are usually miserable and ashamed to meet others. During the last ten years I have known numerous cripples, and have invariably found them content with their lot.
One girl in particular, whom I will call Nora, was entirely without legs. She was just 20 when I was introduced to her, and has lost both legs midway twixt knee and hip, at the age of 16. She was with a party of friends at the time,
The whole party (all young people) were wearing swim suits. As I was introduced to everyone at the same time I didn't notice Nora's condition at first, as she was sitting behind the others. When I did so, my heart missed a beat, then went ahead like a steam-hammer.
For she wore a tiny two-piece suit composed of white wool brassiere and almost negligible trunks of the same material and colour. She was a lovely brunette, possessed of a perfect figure.
Quite unembarrassed at the advent of a stranger, she patted a flat rock beside her as she said laughingly: "Come and sit by me; if the others want you as well, they must move — for you see I can't walk."
She was surprisingly frank about herself, and before we had been talking ten minutes, she said causally, "You rather admire my crippled condition, don't you?"
Of course I was taken aback, and murmured rather incoherently to cover my embarrassment.
This amazing girl just laughed, and flung herself flat on the back, clasping her hand under her curly bobbed hair, she lifted each shortened limb in turn, eyeing them critically.
"Yes, I suppose, they are a trifle interesting," she murmured softly. Suddenly she laughed, a rather shaky laugh that sounded to me not far off tears, before saying, "I've often wondered why Fate chose to rob me of my legs just when I was beginning to enjoy life!"
Then, as if glad of someone to talk to, she told me she had contracted blood-poisoning in both feet through treading on broken glass while bathing in the sea. First both of her tiny feet had been amputated, and just when she had started to walk on artificial feet she had been obliged to have her legs off.
After tea the others danced. Nora volunteered to attend to the portable gramophone, saying, "I may as well earn my keep somehow," adding to me, "even a cripple girl can be useful."
"Can you get about unaided?" I asked.
"Not on shingle, but I can in the house or on soft surfaces. You see," she continued, "I use miniature crutches. My legs are too short for wooden legs."
Shortly after, we all went for a last dip, and Nora surprised me by dragging her lovely body on tiny black crutches to within a few yards of the sea, where she discarded them and swung herself into the water on her hands, were she splashed in the shallows.
Before she was carried to the car by her friends we had exchanged addresses, and she had promised to let me take her out the next day. I did so; but my adventures, if you care to call them so, with this charming girl, will have to be recounted in the future.
Yours truly,
Lawless


London Life February 22, 1936 p. 25
Is Pity Akin To Love?
Dear Sir, — I have been interested in the letters from "Crippled Girl" and others in which the view seems to be expressed that girls who have lost a leg or an arm are not attractive but rather repugnant to other people.
Let me briefly recount my own experience amongst such girls who have been personally known to me.
A girl aged 22 with her left leg off above the knee through a tram accident is now happily married and has a small son. I often see her hopping along on a single crutch wheeling her pram.
Another, aged 28, has her right leg off just below the knee and has married since her accident.
Another girl with her right arm off near the shoulder has since married and has two children.
These are only three instances I can vouch for, but there are probably hundreds of other cases.
A fourth girl has her left leg amputated close to the hip, and I hope one day to call her my wife. She is quite unembarrassed by her condition and talks freely to myself and other friends about it. She dresses attractively and always wears a smart little shoe on her foot.
We are often out together, and I must admit that I like the attention she causes as she swings along on her slender black crutches. Perhaps it is that pity is akin to love and that is why limbless girls seem to find lovers and husbands just as their more fortunate sisters do.
Doris is deeply interested in the letters in "London Life" about monopedes and is never tired of trying fresh little stunts on her one leg. She can hop about the house and garden without a crutch, and does most of the housework.
If she has to stand for any length of time she will support herself by resting on the table, or I will put my hands under her arms and she will bound along gaily on her little slipper. Her single leg is not distasteful either to herself or me, but appeals to my love and tenderness.
She is not always craving for excitement as most girls nowadays are, but as a cripple is content to enjoy her evenings at home.
I used to think that some of Wallace Stort's stories were far fetched and rather absurd, but I realise now that one-legged girls have undoubtedly an attraction of their own, and so I write to defend them.
Yours truly,
An Admirer Of Monopedes.


London Life February 29, 1936 p. 72
A New Discussion
Dear Sir, — With great interest I read in your number of January 4 the letter of a lady dealing with the question of disability boots, wherein she mentioned that she is often followed by men who take an apparent interest in her high boots. I agree with the lady that this is certainly due to the fact that nowadays high boots are not often to be seen. But in my opinion, that is only one part of the explanation. The writer says that she has to wear leg-irons owing to the weakness of her ankle. Now I believe that this attracts her followers as much, or even more, than the high boots. I think it would be interesting if you put to discussion this point of view.
The lady hopes that she recovers so far, that she may leave her home without leg-irons. For this I wish her soon fulfilment, but it would be quite interesting to hear from her, whether she attracts attention in the same way as when having her poor little foot bandaged by the leg-irons.
May I add an experience of my own in this respect? Some years ago a young lady of my acquaintance, aged 21, met with a very bad motor accident. Besides other more harmless injuries, both her knees were broken. She recovered comparatively soon, but there remained a considerable weakness in the knees, so that she could not walk without crutches.
After having tried cure after cure a well-known Berlin orthopaedist made her strong irons for both legs. With these she could stand and walk without difficulty; she needed not even a walking-stick.
When I met her, I sympathised with her foe her mishap, but she laughed at me.
"You know," she said, "when I was sound no one cared for me, the ugly girl." (Here I most interpolate that though being a well-built girl, she was very much disfigured by a big red birthmark on her left cheek.) "That has changed very much since I have to wear these leg-irons. Surely, many people stare at me only for curiosity. But there are many others who show a keen interest in my orthopaedic machines. I have now a friend who has much pleasure in seeing my poor iron-strapped legs. His greatest delight is when I allow him to help me to put on the leg-irons. So, notwithstanding the heavy troubles such disability has in consequence for me, I feel quite happy."
Not long afterwards they were married — much deplored by me, for I myself liked to see those iron-strapped machines. They left Berlin, but I know from occasional letters that they are really happy.
Perhaps a short description of the leg irons used by the lady would interest. The irons consist of three steel rods for each leg, sometimes more than 1 inch broad and artificially moulded to the form of the leg. They reach from the ankle up to the thigh.
With broad leather straps the irons are fastened to the leg, one behind, the two others on the side. Over the knee there is a special leather-work. The result is that both legs are absolutely stiff, whereas the ankles can be moved.
As the rods are absolutely flat and the straps not as thick as usual with such orthopaedic machines, there is no difficulty in wearing high boots. Nevertheless, it is well to be seen that beneath the leather the leg-irons are worn. Following a wish of her husband, the lady wears short shirts.
Now, dear sir, I fear the letter has become a very long one, but the question interested me very much and Miss "Big Boot" asking for experiences I would not fail to answer her. I would be very glad if you could put to discussion the problem from this point of view, and I am sure it will interest those ladies who have the misfortune to wear their foot or leg iron strapped or those readers who are fond of seeing such garments besides or in connection with nice high boots.
All these will certainly give their commentaries too.
May I, dear sir, at the end apologise that I address you in surely not spotless English but that are about 20 years ago that I came home from Africa and I had since only seldom the opportunity to have a talk with an Englishman.
Yours truly,
Leg-Iron. Berlin.


London Life March 21, 1936 p. 25
A Sad Story
Dear Sir, — Your January double number was very interesting.
For you see, though I have never mentioned it before, I myself am legless. About 4 years ago I had the misfortune to lose both my legs midway between ankle and knee, in a marine accident. I recovered very quickly, and up to the middle of last October was getting about quite easily on artificial legs and feet, using only a stick.
To make the artificial limbs as invisible as possible, I wore boots which reached to my thighs. There was another reason for the boots also — the boots were stiffened with irons.
I was fully aware, of course, that my (then) method of locomotion could not last. I held a job which entailed much walking, and after two years I was obliged to use a cripple chair for three months, for it transpired that the bones were diseased and it was only a question of time before what remained of my legs would be shortened.
when I again walked, it was with gadgets fitted to my boots to help my knees to bend as I walked. Even so, as I was continually moving to new districts, few people knew I was legless, thinking me to be merely lame. For business reasons I had to let them think so. Though many a time I was obliged to attend dances and parties while in pain.
If I tried to dodge dances, some bright young thing would be sure to single me out with the remark "You don't want your old stick! I help you about."
And off I had to stagger. If in great pain I told people it was just one of my "bad days".
Anyhow, about the beginning of last October I knew I was finished. I could scarcely move sometimes. My pride would not let me use crutches. The second week in the month I saw my doctor, I begged him to save my half limbs, but it was impossible. They had me in a nursing home, and a week later I was operated on. I stayed there until I could bear the artificial legs I had had made and then, like the leopard, I changed my spots.
Of course my stumps being so tiny makes a normal artificial legs difficult to keep in position, so I had them fitted with hip boots. The top of each boot is lined and designed to reach to the hip and fasten by lacing around my body.
The chief drawback is that I have no knee joints, therefore having to walk stiff-legged with the aid of crutches. The crutches are absolutely necessary; I am quite helpless without outside support. Of course in my rooms I move about by hanging on to the furniture.
Like the heroine of "The Broken Bride", I find my legs awkward in public vehicles — they get in everybody's way. Incidentally, I have to be lifted on to buses and trams by kindly conductors; but as I am new to my crippled state, I hope soon to be able to manage steps alone soon. My rooms are on the ground floor, so there a least I can "do" for myself!
I'd like to see some letters from the lady who is completely legless. I was glad to see her cheery letter. I am not unhappy about my own condition either, I have plenty of money, so why, should I hate life?
By the way, I think "Happy Though Crippled" is wrong about crippled girls. I, who have known many one-legged girls, found them as fond of pleasure as any normal girls. They didn't have to be restful!
I knew one who was quite legless, and who turned up at a fancy dress ball as "Ariel", supported by her friends and two white peg-legs. And she danced!
Trusting this latter will make others write. All success to "London Life"
Yours truly,
Sybarite.


London Life April 25, 1936
Assisting Nature
Dear Sir, — In answer to "Big Boot" and "Legiron", may I describe and illustrate some surgical boots and leg-irons, with apologies for bad drawings in advance?
No. 1 is a type of high boot now not often seen, fitted with ankle— supporting toe-elevating irons. The height is obtained by means of a steel stand under the sole of the boot. The irons fit into sockets at each side of the heel and are jointed at the ankle, being strapped to the leg there and running up to the padded strap under the wearer's knee. The ankle is supported by a strap which is fastened to the side of the boot under the instep and is buckled round the iron on the far side, enveloping the ankle. The toe is elevated by means of springs attached to the irons above the ankle and running to ankle pieces on the irons above the ankle and running to angle pieces on the irons below the joints. Such irons are generally used in cases of paralysis.
No. 2 is a plain ankle-supporting iron and a high boot suitable for a withered leg. The corset round the wearer's calf is a particularly strengthening feature.
No. 3 is rather similar to No. 1 but toe elevation is obtained by means of an elevator strap of rubber or leather. The boot has a high sole of cork and is suitable for a paralysed leg of a more severe type. It is fitted with a knee-brace at the top.
No. 4 is a neat boot for a club foot, and the picture is self-explanatory.
No. 5 is a remarkable boot I recently saw on a fashionably dressed and attractive girl. It was fitted with unjointed irons, ankle support strap, and toe and heel suspenders, so that her foot was held absolutely rigid. The heel was quite 6 inches high, and she wore a shoe with a high heel on her other leg. The effect was most attractive.
No. 6 is a treatment boot designed for use in cases where the wearer is not allowed to put weight on the foot. A tight strapped corset round the wearer's calf and a tight kneecap take the entire weight, the irons curving away at each side of the foot and joining to form a sort of peg-leg under it. On the other foot the wearer has a high soled boot to compensate for the height added by the appliance. Crutches are sometimes necessary to assist the crippled leg until the wearer is used to this painful method of carrying the weight, but can be discarded after a few months.
No. 7 is a boot for that rare deformity known as "swan-neck foot". The foot is permanently turned back into a position in which it is quite useless. Frequently an operation can be performed to rectify the matter, but when this is not possible the only solution is to fit the foot with a boot and irons arranged so that the patient's weight can be carried on a platform under the front of the foot. The illustration shows how it can be done.
No. 8 is a particularly attractive high boot for cases of extreme shortening.
I apologise for the length of this, but if others would like it I write further descriptions of crippled girls with whom I am constantly in contact.
Yours truly,
Cripplegate.


London Life April 25, 1936 p. 9
A Definition
Dear Sir, — I was very interested to see the result of the voting competition that you recently conducted, and to see what subjects appealed to your readers most. I was agreeably surprised to see monopedes so high up on the list.
Talking of monopedes, in a large dictionary, published by Funk and Wagnalls in 1902 they give in their definition anything sustained by one foot, particularly one of the fabulous Ethiopian race, with only one leg.
Please can you or one of your readers tell me the name of a book where I am able to read about this race?
I was quite interested to read recently two letters from "A Crippled Girl". I would like to tell her, and other girls suffering in the same way, to try and cheer up. I can quite understand that it is not nice to be lame (I hate the word "cripple"), but there is absolutely no doubt whatsoever that many men are attracted by lame ladies.
Personally, I prefer a monopede; but I am always fascinated when I have the good fortune to see a pretty girl walking slowly along with either a high boot or possessing a club foot.
I have written too much already, but if you publish this letter I will write again and tell you about two lame girls who are quite cheerful in spite of their (so-called) misfortune.
Yours truly,
Magpie S. Australia.


London Life May 23, 1936 pp. 22 — 23
Glad She Had A Leg On Which To Stand
Dear Sir, — I was about to start this letter to you several days ago, but was delayed from doing so, and I have now time to look through this week's Spring number and must start by expressing my appreciation for a splendid production.
One thing only mars this edition — the fact that once again you have forgotten your monopede readers and have provided no story for us either by "Lawless" or W. Stort.
Also where are the limbless correspondents? No letters from these have appeared since early in February, with he exception of the interesting letter form "Cripplegate". It is very interesting to compare the letters of ten years ago with the topics discussed to-day, and to notice that you have included two letters re monopedes in this series.
I hope that you will do something similar in your Summer number, and please let us have more letters from limbless readers, for I know that during the eight years that I have been a reader there must have been scores of these letters.
Perhaps your readers would be interested in an account of a young girl who has recently come to live near to us.
I had noticed this girl going up and down the road for several days, by the fact that she walked with the aid of a crutch and wore a very thick boot (I learned later that her right leg was 12 inches shorter than her left), and a few days later, while I was waiting for the bus to town, this girl came and waited too; and I suppose being mutually attracted to one another, we smiled, then spoke, and then travelled up together.
This happened on several occasions, and a few weeks later we were coming from town together on the bus, and I asked her if she would come in to tea with me, as I was alone. She did, and I enjoyed her company very much, she being an excellent conversationalist. She told me that her leg ceased to grow when she was about eight years old, so that now she was fully grown (she was 21 and had a lovely figure), her leg was practically useless and more than 12 inches short, so that she wore a boot very similar to No. 3 described by your correspondent, the sole being 10 inches thick and the heel 15 inches high. (How's that for some of your high heelers?)
She dressed very smartly and that particular afternoon, she was wearing a two-piece in navy, with red and white buttons and ornament, a chic little hat, and her shoe was an instep-tie model in blue glacй kid, with a high Spanish heel, her high boot also being in blue leather and very smart design, and her crutch was the armpit type in ebony, and very slender. I was very surprised to find how light her club foot was. She took it off to show me, and it was no heavier than an ordinary leather brogue shoe, the thick sole being merely a hollow shell. I found that she was very particular over her footwear, and always had her high boot designed in the same leather and colour as her other shoe, the style being as near as was possible.
She told me that she had no less than eight "pairs", including one in white kid and one in black satin for evening wear.
Since that day we have seen quite a lot of one another, and she often pops in for a chat, and the other day she called with a very serious look on her face and asked if I would give her my advice, as she would very much appreciate it.
It appeared that her father, who was very fond of her, hated the thought that she was burdened and her appearance spoiled by what he called her ugly foot, and had been to an eminent orthopaedic surgeon to seek his opinion with a view to having the leg removed completely, the ultimate idea being for Elsie to have an artificial leg.
So she had come to me, being a monopede, for my opinion on the matter which, frankly, I hesitated to give; for, as I explained to her, our cases were so entirely different, my leg being amputated through an accident and so badly damaged in the bone that I cannot wear an artificial leg, although I have persevered as I told you in a previous letter. I advised her, therefore, to stress that point with the doctor when it came to an examination that he could assure her of the ability to wear a leg at a future date.
However, she has had now both an examination and an X-ray, and the great man assures her father and Elsie that she will be far better in health, both physically and mentally, through the leg being removed, and she is now preparing to enter a nursing home shortly for the operation. I have introduced her to "London Life", and she is now taking a copy regularly. She was simply amazed to read of the many limbless and crippled lady correspondents in some of the back numbers which I loaned to her, and possibly later on I may persuade her to write to you herself.
My husband and I paid a visit to my friend Joan this Easter, and she is getting marvellously agile on her two artificial legs being able to get about the house without any support at all and using only a walking stick in the street. The legs themselves are a wonderful contraption. Joan showed them to me at night when she removed them. They are made almost entirely of polished aluminium, and remarkably light in weight. Of course I could see that the workmanship was of the best, but was surprised when Joan told me that the pair of legs cost her over 70 pounds, my husband's observation being that "he was glad that I had a leg to stand on."
Joan asserts that, despite her fine equipment, she would really change places with me and be content to walk on a single leg and crutches.
Trusting that I have not taken too much of your valuable space
Yours truly,
Single High Heel.


London Life May 23, 1936 p. 23
Tramps On One
Dear Sir, — May another one-legged girl contribute to your correspondence columns? I was interested to read a letter in the Surprise number from "One High Heeled Shoe". In fact that is what inspired me to write to you.
I, too, are minus my left leg from well above the knee, only I am an experienced monopede, for it was amputated nearly five years ago, when I was eighteen.
I wonder if any of your readers would be interested to hear of my activities. I ride a bicycle, swim, and tramp quite long distances. I have never worn an artificial leg, nor have I any great desire to own one. I have heard unpleasant tales about them causing cancer, due to the constant rubbing, and in any case I don't think I could be bothered with straps and a tight belt which seem to be necessary accessories to them. Outside I use a crutch, but in the house and garden, which is secluded, I wear a peg-leg, and I still find walking on it quite a thrill. I'm afraid I haven't had the courage to wear it in public, because I find that I am stared at quite enough as it is — partly, I suppose, due to the fact that I am accounted rather pretty and have a good figure; also my remaining leg is shapely, and I always wear a high-heed shoe. This latter whim of mine is looked upon by my friends as being the height of foolishness, for they say that I might so easily overbalance and fall.
However, I have never yet had a serious tumble, and don't think I ever shall, for I can stand without any aid, and hop about my bedroom and in fact, all over the house, just as well and as quickly poised on one 4 inch heel as any of my friends and well-wishers can manage to get about on two!
Of course there is a lot that is unpleasant about going through one's life with only one leg, and there is a great deal of discomfort, too, especially at first! But there is a lot that is rather thrilling about it. Perhaps it is the attraction which some people seem to find in one which I don't think they would if it were not for one's (so-called) misfortune.
If there are any other readers of "London Life" who are monopedes, can't we have some letters from them telling us their ideas and experiences?
Yours truly,
Five Toes.


London Life May 30, l936 p. 57
Disability Boots
Dear Sir, — May I thank Mr. Cripplegate for his interesting letter in the April double number of "London Life"? The drawings added much to the worth of the letter. I agree with the writer that pattern No. 5 of the special boots is a nice one, and that the girl who wore it looked very well notwithstanding her disability, and attracted much attention.
Besides myself, surely all those girl readers of "London Life" who wear disability boots or leg-irons will eagerly look for a new letter of the author. So I think I speak in the name of all if I ask "Cripplegate" to let us have another letter very soon telling us something more of crippled girls of his acquaintance, as he promised it.
I take the opportunity to remind "Big Boot" of my letter, which she surely read, and to ask her kindly whether she would not write us some lines about her further experiences.
And generally I should like to propose that other girl readers of "London Life", who have to go with leg-irons, tell us of their experiences, as their one-legged sisters do already, and add, if possible, a photo.
Yours truly,
Leg Iron


London Life July 11, 1936 p. 21
The Compensation Of A Limp
Dear Sir, — In view of the recent correspondence you have published, it occurs to me that some of your readers would be rather interested to hear from another girl with the disability of a shortened leg, and the way the difficulty is overcome.
A little over a year ago I was involved in an accident resulting in serious injury to my right leg. When at length I got about again, it was with this leg shortened by more than 3 inches, and I was, of course, on crutches for some time.
I am a tall girl, not unattractive in appearance (to put it modestly!), and at first I was much upset about my short leg. As soon as possible I had my first big boot made, having this fashioned in as attractive style as it could be, and matching to some extent a high-heeled court shoe for my left foot.
Rather to my surprise, my unusual footwear was deemed attractive by quite a number of my men friends — as was my disability generally, for I had a very good time whilst about on crutches. I determined to make the best of what I considered a bad job — even if others did not think so — and to take trouble to get the best effect from it.
The next boot I had made was in dark green, built a little higher than before, with shoe having a 4 inch heel to match. (The shoe to my first boot only had a 3 inch heel.) I began to use an ebony cane for walking out, and the general effect was not at all bad — a very slight limp only, and of course a slow walk.
A few months ago I was married to a charming husband who seems to be making quite a hobby of my footwear and methods of walking generally. The latest experiments are equally fascinating to him and me. My husband has had made for me two special pairs of shoes for indoor and evening wear, and I am now quite an expert in these. In each case the left shoe has a normal high heel of a little over 3 inches, whilst the right shoe is very special with a heel just 7 inches high! Upon the latter I am right on tip-toe, and the balance is very tricky indeed.
Incidentally, these shoes are the envy of most of my friends, who have all more than once begged to try them on, making most amusing effects to walk round the room in them.
I confess it took me some little time to get accustomed to the extraordinary height of the heel on the right shoe, and I needed my husband's arm the first few times I wore them. The essentials are an extremely short stride and considerable care. I naturally limp rather a lot in these shoes. As the heel height does not compensate for my short leg to the same extent as the big boots; but my husband considers them very fascinating, and others appear to agree with him. I now frequently go out in them, providing I am not walking far, and the other day I managed to cross a very uneven cobbled street fairly gracefully — the tapering 7 inch heel needing a good deal of skill, as it tried to slip into various crevices.
A few weeks ago my leg was aching somewhat, and when my husband got home in the evening I greeted him at the door with a crutch under my right arm and my short leg hanging well clear of the ground, as I had put on a pair of normal high-heeled shoes. Now, although he, of course, knew I possessed a pair of crutches, he had never seen me use them, as I had stowed them away in a box-room. He seemed very intrigued as I preceded him into the lounge balancing on one crutch and a single high heel, and asked why I did not sometimes use it and rest my leg. He commented that I seemed very adapt with a crutch, and used it gracefully without letting my shoulder go up too much.
I said that if he liked to see me walk like that, I would often do so, but that I would like to have a smart new crutch to use, as the old one was rather heavy. That was sufficient for him! Two days later I was the possessor of a beautifully made slender black crutch, very light and easy to use, and fitted with a detachable tip which could be replaced by a slightly longer one to compensate for different heel heights. At the same time he bought me a pair of silver evening shoes with 5 inch heels, and a pair of red court shoes with similar heels and high ankle straps. The latter I am wearing when going out with him in the evenings sometimes — theatre last night, for instance.
I definitely need his arm with a five inch heel and one crutch, but I get quite a thrill out of this method of walking, providing it is but a short distance. I find the most effective method is to put my right toe round and behind my crutch, my right leg therefore moving with it. My husband seems to think this quite attractive, as he says one sees from behind a dainty ankle and a high heeled shoe "caressing" the crutch a few inches from the ground.
From the above it will be seen that I am able now to vary my methods of overcoming my disability. In the mornings I usually go into town — by bus most of the way — on a 7 inch heel; in the afternoon I frequently walk quite a good distance wearing a big boot; and in the evenings I am either back in my special shoes or wearing 6 inch heeled shoes — and using my crutch if going out in them.
Indoors I can walk about on the 6 inch heels without my crutch, but I would not call it a graceful exhibition! Incidentally, I am able to dance quite well on a 7 inch heel, but it is, of course, rather tiring.
I wonder whether any others of your readers have experimented in similar ways. I may say that in my opinion a shortened leg for a girl may be inconvenient, but it certainly can have its compensations.
Yours truly,
Janet.


London Life July 25, 1936 p. 23
Why A Wooden Leg?
Dear Sir, — the following may interest your one-legged readers and those who are admirers of their pluck and their attractive appearance.
Recently I was roaming through London and noticed a girl, good-looking, smartly dressed and minus her right leg, hopping along on two crutches. Her one leg was well dressed in a silk stocking and she wore a high heeled court shoe.
While standing on the up-going escalator at Leicester Square station, I was amazed to see this girl gracefully mounting it whilst it was in motion, at a much greater speed than many able bodied people. She seemed to swing herself along with complete confidence, and appeared to be oblivious of her crippled state.
There was something extremely attractive about this girl having only one well dressed leg, and her only foot so neatly shod in her brown high-heeled court shoe.
Why girls who have lost a leg should wish to wear an artificial one, I cannot understand; for they are far more attractive on their crutches. But this is only a mere man's point of view.
During the same "roam" I saw another girl using crutches, but this one was not minus a leg; but her left leg was perhaps 24 inches short — too short fortunately, for her to wear any unsightly boot or irons.
This leg hung limply, gently swaying as she moved along. Her left foot hung downwards (due to a stiff instep), and disclosed a court shoe of patent leather with a heel which must have been 5 inches high. The shoe, of course, looked perfect, as it was not even soiled owing to her inability to use it or to touch the ground with it. This, too, was another form of attractiveness in a hopelessly lame girl.
I have observed other girls compelled to use crutches, either due to shortness of a leg or to the amputation of one, but I will not describe those unless your readers wish it, as it is already a long letter.
It is, however, sufficient to show that most crippled or one-legged girls, especially when well dressed, incite the admiration and sympathy of
Yours truly,
A Mere Male.


London Life August 8, 1936 p. 21
A New Member
Dear Sir, — My wife and I are glad to see letters from some new correspondents lately on the subject of lame and limbless ladies.
Janet is lucky in having a husband who gratifies her every whim with regard to her high-heels and crutches, and what a glorious sight it must be to see her wearing 5 inch heeled shoe daintily supported by a slender crutch.
I think my wife told you in a previous letter that we have another member to our list of friends, a very pretty girl who has been burdened with a crippled leg since infancy, who now has recently returned from the nursing home after a very successful. operation in which her leg has been removed from above the knee joint. We have been to see her several times since her return home and she is very happy about it.
Her parents have now taken her to the sea for a month's holiday, and when she returns we will endeavour to persuade her to write you herself.
We spent last week with some friends who have a bungalow on the East coast, quite a secluded spot and enjoyed the sea bathing to the full.
My wife is quite a good swimmer and is in her element in the water, although she will not use the lidos here at home since some very unkind and pointed remarks were made two years ago when we visited one near here, despite the fact that we chose an afternoon when few people were there, and she was wearing a costume that practically hid her deficiency. However, we had the beach to ourselves last week and my wife hopped down the sand to the water's edge merely holding the arms of my friend and I.
I was pleased to see in a recent issue that you are shortly reprinting "At the Moignon d'Or". Your new readers will be sure to like this and old readers will surely read it again.
Yours faithfully.
Husband Of Single High Heel.



User avatar

Topic Author
Bazil
Старожил
Posts: 514
Joined: 01 Sep 2017, 23:35
Reputation: 283
Sex: male
Has thanked: 698 times
Been thanked: 630 times
Russia

Re: Letters to the magazine "London Life" 1924-1941

Post: # 25329Unread post Bazil
10 Feb 2018, 10:25

London Life August 15, 1936 p. 24
"I Contradict Wallace Stort"
Dear sir, — You print in "London Life" so many pictures of chorines and actresses with beautiful legs which are insured for this and that amount that it makes one wonder if symmetrically perfect underpinnings are necessary for every girl. I know that they are considered of primary importance if one has theatrical ambitions, but — correct me if I am wrong — was not the divine Sarah Bernhardt lame?
I would like (from "Historicus" and others) a complete list of all famous women who achieved fame and fortune despite their lameness; for, as you may have guessed, I am a cripple myself.
I know that Wallace Stort and others profess to admire one-legged girls above all others, but I know from personal experience that a crippled girl is very often the target far many glances; but alas, they are of pity, not of admiration.
No; I am not afraid as the years roll on, I feel that it is becoming increasingly necessary for girls to have perfect legs rather than delude themselves that "legs don't matter".
At the same time, I would like to point out to Wallace Stort and others that their so called love for one-legged girls arises out of a real fear of the crippled state!
I feel sure that our reader-psychologist "Brother of the Shadow" will bear me out in this statement.
During the many years which I spent as an inmate of hospitals and crippled children's homes, I found that many people were inclined to cherish or profess a morbid love for what they most hated or feared, and I think that if Wallace Stort and others confessed frankly that it was an inborn horror of being one-legged themselves that had inverted itself and emerged as a form of admiration for one of the opposite s*ex who happened to be so afflicted, they would be really telling the honest truth for once!
As it is, they, by their eulogistic letters, are trying to fill we one— legged girls with the delusion that our very infirmity increases our attraction, whereas we know from past and bitter experiences that being one-legged decreases from our attractiveness at least 60 per cent.
I, though anything but a tramp would personally decline to dress in a way that would reveal and not conceal my lameness, as Wallace Stort advises his heroines to do: I may be lame, but that is my misfortune, and should never be so misguided as to accept Stort's wild theories as gospel, for I fear that would make me an object of not pity, but contempt!
Yours truly
A One-Legged But Not Deluded Girl.


London Life August 29, 1936 p. 43
Crutch Or Peg?
Dear Sir, — The enclosed snap may perhaps find a place in your correspondence columns, of which I have been a regular reader.
I am a congenital monopede — or nearly so, having been born with a sketchy sort of left prop which, being neither of ornament nor use, was lopped off in my early teens.
My crutch is, of course, practically part of my anatomy and life. Long practice has made me slicker and handier with it than anyone could ever be on the imitation leg. I keep quite an assortment of crutches suitable for all occasions, including a white enamelled one with a white kid top, which I used when a bride.
The only rival to a crutch is a peg-leg. These can be quite dainty, and I have noticed smart well-to-do women in France who wear them. Doubtless an Englishwoman would not dare to wear one for fear strangers might think she could not afford anything costlier.
I have often been pressed by admirers to spot one. They all agreed that it is much more enticing than a costly clumsy jointed thing full of springs, pulleys and gadgets. Besides, if there is any kink in being a monopede, why go out of one's way to try to disguise the fact.
I would be very interested to hear the views of any monopede who actually uses a "peggy".
By the way, my Alice-in-Wonderland shoe will shock your high-heel fans. But tastes differ. Variety is the spice of life, and there are two sides to every question. Anyway, I use a 3 inch heel for evening wear.
My only criticism of "London Life" is that here is too little correspondence.
Yours truly,
Tory.


London Life August 29, 1936 p. 59
It's Wonderful What Love Will Do
Dear Sir, — Your paper has from time to time contained letters from admirers of monopedes, and as a one-legged girl myself they have interested me; but there is another side of the question to the unfortunate owner of a missing limb. In the street we are stared at and pitied, and wherever we go we hear hardly concealed, remarks on our crippled condition.
Then, again, it is not every man who has the "limbless fad", as I know to my own cost.
My left leg was amputated about two years after our marriage. I was desperately unhappy, as my condition had completely alienated my husband's affection, and he now treated me with contempt and indifference, and found his pleasures with other girls with normal bodies.
The sight of my crutches and empty skirt was obnoxious to him, and from indifference his manner got actually cruel. He would even take my crutches from me, in spite of my tears, and leave me to crawl or hop as best I could.
One day a former boyfriend called to see me and found me lying helpless on the floor. He picked me up, and then I told him everything. To my surprise, I found that he had always loved me, and I don't think we were much to blame when we eventually went away together.
With his help and a little money of my own I am now living quite close to him until such time as I can get released from my husband and we can marry. I am now perfectly happy, and no longer mind being stared at. I am proud to hop along at his side on my slender crutches and love the little attentions I get.
Gradually there is creeping into my mind a feeling of interest in my single leg, because I know that it appeals to him, and nothing pleases him better than to place his hands under my arms and help me hop crutchless about the garden on my smart little shoe, or he will place his arm round my waist whilst I rest one arm on his shoulder and hop with ease on my one leg.
It is wonderful what love will do, and I long for the time when he can take me legally into his arms as his
One-Legged Wife.


London Life September 26, 1936 p. 58
It Is Nice To Be Different
Dear Sir, — I was very interested in the letter "What Love Will Do", in your last double number. One hopes that the poor one-legged girl will soon be happy with the one she loves.
From time to time you publish letters from limbless girls, and these show that a one-legged condition has a real appeal to many people. On the other hand, you have had letters from others who look at their loss as something to be almost ashamed of and hidden as far as possible. All this shows the vast difference in people's mental outlook.
In my own case, I suppose I must always have had the limbless complex, though unknown to me. At all events, when my leg was amputated and I began to recover, I well remember the distinct thrill which my one leg gave me. The novelty of my crutches, my single shoe, etc, were all a source of interest for me, I felt a kind of pride in the fact that my amputation was a high one.
I suppose I really enjoyed the pity of all my friends. My slender black crutches were my constant companions, and I remember the curious stares that followed me as I hopped along on them.
I thoroughly enjoyed mastering all the little difficulties of my new condition, and really liked hopping about on my single leg when I was at home.
I have two sisters who are of an athletic disposition, fond of tennis, swimming, golf, etc, and to them I suppose they regarded my life as ended with the loss of my leg. Often I have seen them in tennis frocks gaily setting out for a party, whilst I had to follow with my mother, hopping along on my single little slipper. And yet, in spite of this, I found all the men ever so kind to me, and I was often surrounded by quite a little throng.
I cannot help being a cripple, and see nothing to be ashamed of. I wear pretty frocks and a smart little shoe on my single foot. At home, like other of your correspondents, I constantly hop about without crutches, and get quite a thrill from it.
After all, it is nice to be different from other girls. There are hundreds of pretty girls about, but the possession of a little pair of French crutches and only one leg marks one out at once.
Yours truly,
Happy On One.


London Life November 21, 1936 p. 23
Not So Bad After All
Dear Sir, — As a one-legged girl I was very interested in recent letters from monopedes. My left leg was amputated about 4 inches from the hip nearly two years ago, when I was 19, and after recovering from the first terrible shock of being a cripple for the rest of my life, I found it was quite possible to enjoy life with only one leg and a smart pair of crutches.
I had been intrigued by the photographs of two monopedes — one who had been without a left leg all her life and wore an Alice-in-Wonderland flat-heeled shoe; and the other, photographed only six months after her amputation, with a six inch heel on a black patent court shoe, the top of the heel outlined in white. I have both these shoes, size 4, also one with a 7 inch heel.
On a 7 inch heel I can hobble about with difficulty, and could not go out wearing it; but I can wear a 6 inch heel in the street with ease and complete comfort.
Just before I lost my leg I tried a pair of 6 inch heels for the first time and, frankly, I could only just get along with my knees bent, taking very short steps, and didn't look too good, though I believe that with practice a girl can walk on 6 inch heels in a graceful way.
Your one-crutch correspondent, "Tory", asks for experiences with a wooden leg. I have one which is very neat and slender, and quite dainty, but the truth is that with a high amputation you can't wear a wooden leg just when you like. All the weight of one's body has to rest on the sharp edges on the leg, and it isn't pleasant until you have practised quite a lot. If you discard the leg for a week, you have to start all over again getting used to it.
When I got used to mine — it takes about a month — I was rather thrilled to have my hands and arms free again, but with a short stump the thing tends to come off every time you sit down, and I finally discarded it as a nuisance.
A single crutch is ideal when you get used to it, but it produces a definitely ugly walk, and you can't keep your shoulder down. Also I am sure it tends to distort the spine, which quite spoils the appearance of a pretty girl.
Like "Tory", I used a single crutch for some months, and hardly knew I was one-legged, until one day it broke — though I am as light as she — and I fell with my head in the fireplace, fortunately empty. That frightened me, and I have been on two crutches ever since, and shall be for the rest of my life.
When I tried an artificial leg I received no attention at all but on my crutches everyone turns to look at me and glance at my 4 inch and 6 inch heel — not always with approval in the case of catty women who resent the attention I receive and they don't.
Honestly, I don't think I should like to have two legs again, though I adored dancing. Few people looked at me when I was a normal girl with quite good looks and smartly dressed, but now if I enter a room or walk down the street on my black, brown, grey or scarlet — yes scarlet! — crutches, which are specially made and very slender, I create a sensation and I love it.
Incidentally "Tory", a pair of crutches can be made twice as slender as a single crutch, and I much prefer the type that go single just below the little cross-pieces for the hands. Mine taper to 5/8 inches diameter at the base.
Congratulations to "One High-heeled Shoe" on wearing a 6 inch heel so soon after her amputation.
Yours truly,
One-Legged.


London Life November 26, 1936 pp. 83 — 85
Wallace Stort Tells Of Many Remarkable Experiences
Strange Friendships Made And Ended, But Not Forgotten.
Dear Sir, — Once again I am afraid I have to apologise for a long delay in sending you a further instalment of my new story, the first part of which I sent you some time ago. I am sure you don't want to be bothered with a long explanation, but briefly this is the cause.
You had rather spoiled me in the past by using my work shortly after I had sent it; and as for a long time I had no news of the instalments I sent, I took it that perhaps you were not using this particular story. I laid it aside in consequence, and then when eventually I did see your very nice references to the story in reply to questions by several correspondents, I was unable to return to it for the time being, owing to pressure from other work. However, I hope to finish it within a reasonable time.
It has, by the way, been very gratifying to me to note that despite my long absence from the paper, readers still refer to my work and ask for my stories. I see, too, that there has been quite a demand recently for the republication of the story I think my best in this vein — "At the Moignon d'Or". I should very much like to see it in print again myself, specially if Miss Stanton could be induced to enhance it with a set of her admirable illustrations.
There is, if I may make a further suggestion, another effort of mine the republication of which might be welcomed by your very many new readers interested in this particular topic, as well as by the older brigade. That is "The Confessions of a Monopede Bride", which was, as I gathered, very much appreciated at time of its publication in your columns, for its truthful and unexaggerated record of actual experience. (The one-legged bride of the narrative is still a very happy, attractive, and much-admired wife!)
Apropos all of this, it may be of interest that some revelations of mine in the last series I did for "London Life" ("The Strange Adventures of a Lover") have just been borne out in an article entitled "Queer Human Nightbirds of Paris", that appeared in an American Sunday paper. In that article all kinds of queer, out-of-the-way people who are to be found in the Paris streets and night haunts are discussed; and prominent among them is "Mlle Pierette", a young and attractive "fille de joie" known as the "One-legged Venus".
Pierette attractively dressed, supported by neat crutches, is to be found parading the boulevards at night, and has, so the article states, a very large clientиle of admirers. A photograph of the lady reveals her as quite pretty and well dressed, standing supported by slimly built crutches, with her one shapely limb displayed beneath a short skirt, and a neat, extremely high-heeled slipper on her small foot.
It would be interesting if you could reproduce this article, at least in part, and the photograph, in "London Life", as many readers may have doubted the existence of such women, and the article bears out what I have stated in this connection in your columns.
Among other interesting facts given is that at one time Pierette consented to wear an artificial leg bought for her by an admirer. But she found that friends fell off so considerably that very soon she went back to crutches!
Another extraordinary revelation is that a large painting of Pierette in the nude, revealing her single leg, caused a sensation (as well as it might) when it was exhibited in the "Salons des Indйpendants" in February of this year. And finally it is stated that a number of other one-legged "filles", envious of Pierette's great success, are now to be found following her lead in the night clubs. All of which goes to show that this inexplicable "limbless-complex" is much more widespread than is imagined by the ordinary individual.
On the whole, the article gives the facts as its writer knows them, but he is certainly wrong in one of his implications. I know Pierette quite well by sight — in fact, the little, smartly dressed brunette is a familiar sight to most night clubs of Paris, but she is by no means the first of her kind to appear in Paris, as the article I have quoted seems to suggest. I myself have known of several others before her time, but they frequented the better-class restaurants and night clubs.
There was J., well known in Montmartre just after the war, a red-headed Jewess, very good-looking, though not particularly young and rather Junoesque in figure. She was quite legless, and her favourite trick was, while sitting with her friends at a table — which, of course, hid her deficiency — to allow a stranger to ask her to dance. She would then throw her arms boisterously round his neck, and he would naturally respond by putting an arm about her and so lift her, as he thought, to her feet. When at last discovered, with a shock, that this would-be dancing partner was quite legless, J. would drop back in her chair and go off into paroxysms of laughter at what appeared to her the funniest joke in the world!
S., a very pretty one-legged blonde, was another well-known figure in certain Paris cabarets and night haunts about the same time, and had a large circle of male admirers. S.'s most famous stunt was dancing both solo and with a partner, in each case, of course, without a crutch — she used only a single crutch at any time, by the way. She was uncannily agile and sure-footed on her single leg, and though she fell now and then, she always managed to save herself from serious injury, and usually shouted with laughter as she scrambled up again.
It was undoubtedly she who gave me the idea for the character "La Belle Monopede", the one-legged dancer who was featured in my series of stories, "The Tattooed Butterfly", "At The Moignon d'Or", and "Dr. Nicholas", all of which appeared in your columns some years ago.
S. always maintained that she infinitely preferred being one-legged and that she got a lot of fun out of it. She always hotly resented pitying references to her loss. But I don't think anybody quite believed her story that she had to have her leg amputated to please a wealthy admirer.
Which reminds me that there was always floating round Paris in those days the extraordinary legend that a wealthy young boulevardier had persuaded a young and very beautiful Folies Bergиre dancer to undergo amputation of both arms at the shoulder, and both legs at the hips, and then married her and settled a large fortune for her.
The legend was, of course, of extremely doubtful authenticity, but it obviously arose from the fact that at all the most fashionable theatrical "premiиres" a notable figure was a young and pretty girl who arrived in a big, luxurious limousine and was carried into the theatre by a handsome young man always immaculately dressed.
This girl was certainly without legs entirely, as I was able to assure myself on more than one occasion, her thin frocks always hanging slack and empty from the hips in unmistakable fashion as she was carried in and out of the theatre. And it was generally agreed hat she also had no arms, and certainly none were ever seen to emerge from the flowered shawl or cape in which she was invariably wrapped.
She was never seen at any of the usual restaurants or cabarets, and whether she was the famous armless and legless ex-dancer of the legend or, as I suspect, a girl born without limbs, remained an intriguing mystery.
I had, by the way, the interesting experience a few years ago of seeing an entirely legless girl of about twenty or so carried to the next stall to mine at a matinйe performance at the Coliseum. She was carried by a man rather older than herself, thirty-fivish, I should say, and I was interested to note that the girl wore an engagement ring. She was perfectly cheerful and happy, and thoroughly enjoyed the show, smoking innumerable cigarettes and chatting gaily with her fiancй, as I suppose he was, during intervals in the show. I saw her carried out after the performance, to a waiting car, her long, empty skirts trailing, smilingly unembarrassed by the attention she attracted.
Another character of mine, "Tina", the armless and one-legged beauty whom I first introduced in the series, "The Strange Quest of Anthony Drew", a few years ago, had also, astonishing as it may seem, her counterpart in the Paris of those years. She was a side-show celebrity, appearing at all the fairs round Paris and in the provinces.
I first saw her at the famous Neuilly Fair in the Paris suburbs and later at Luna Park and other places. She was billed "Princess Annette" and sometimes "La Belle Annette", and claimed, with reason I imagine, that she was the only one of her kind in the world on exhibition. She was attractive and chic rather than pretty, small and plump, a pronounced brunette of a Spanish type, and about 23 or 24 at that time.
She was quite armless, with rather prominent, but well-shaped rounded shoulder ends only remaining. And she had only one leg, her left, shapely, but rather muscular, after the style of a ballet dancer's leg.
She had been born without arms and had lost her right leg when about 17, in a curious way. She had at that time been giving an act in a lions' den as the only armless girl tamer, etc. The act was mostly fake as, of course, she was not a tamer, and a real tamer was always in the den with her during the show. But one night a lion turned on them both, severely injured the man, and so badly mauled her right leg that it had to be amputated.
The girls reaction to this loss, at any rate at the time I knew her, was sufficiently astonishing and unexpected. She said it had really turned out to be a good thing, as the fact that she was now one-legged as well as armless very much enhanced her value as a side-show performer, and gave her an odd pride in the fact that she was the only one of her particular type on exhibition. The fact that she had now only one limb did not appear to enter into the matter at all! She was a side-show star, netting a small fortune in salary and percentages; and though I never made the suggestion, I am quite sure that if I had asked her if she would not have preferred to be in possession of all her limbs, she would have regarded me as some kind of imbecile! Of course she was not alone in this attitude, inexplicably as it may be to the ordinary individual. You will find a like odd point of view in nearly all limbless side-show celebrities.
She gave a very interesting and varied show, appearing attractively clad in flesh-coloured silk tights, with tiny transparent lace sleeves very inadequately veiling the otherwise bare, armless shoulder ends. Her slipper of pink satin was of the heelless, flexible type worn by acrobats, and her tights were neatly mittened at the toe to leave the bare, long, well-kept toes free for use.
She did all the routine "Armless Lady" tricks — signed her autograph on postcard photographs of herself with her toes; poured out tea and conveyed the cup easily and flexibly to her lips; chose a cigarette from a box and placed it between her lips and lit it; went through her toilette, doing her hair, powdering and roughing her face, and a host of other stunts all done with perfect ease with her toes.
Then she played football with the assistant, a light, big balloon-like ball of thin rubber being used. She cleverly dodged her opponent (of course he was purposely awkward) as she hopped swiftly all over the little stage, and scored goal after goal.
Finally she gave a most creditable exhibition of a rifle shooting — the rifle supported on a small tripod, while she sat on a tall stool — using her toes to pull the trigger and hitting as many as three or four out of six celluloid balls thrown up by her assistant.
After her show she usually hopped down from the stage and mingled with her very interested and usually crowded audience, standing or hopping about with perfect ease and balance, joking with he crowd and answering all kind of questions about herself. And then she would sit by the exit on her tall stool and "shake hands" with anybody who wished as they went out, many of the gallant Frenchmen raising her bare toes to their lips as they bowed over her uplifted foot.
I became very friendly with her — she very soon sensed my very unusual interest in her — and when shortly after I met her, she took a few months' holiday from the fair, I was a frequent visitor at her charming apartment off the Champs d'Elysйes. I was therefore able to see her at home as well as on show, and it was remarkable how little she was really affected by her lack of limbs. She was as active about the house as most girls, probably more active than most, and though she had a personal maid as well as other servants, she seemed to take an intense pleasure in doing everything she could herself.
She rarely, if ever, wore skirts at home — they would have been too much in the way — appearing usually in attractive trunks of satin or velvet, worn with charming silk blouses or jumpers. With a costume of this kind she ordinarily wore an opera-length silk stoking reaching to the hip and, of course, neatly mittened at the toe. All her ordinary slippers, of satin, or kid, or velvet, were made entirely without heels, so that she could hop about in safety. But she had one or two very high, spindle heels, which she wore sometimes when entertaining, and then, of course, only when she was seated. To move about, she would kick off such a slipper and hop cheerfully about on her stockinged foot.
At one time I treasured a number of letters written by her to me with her toes, and also several photographs of herself, signed by her in the same way, showing her, clad for the most part in the very dainty and attractive silk tights, performing one or other of her many feats with her toes.
And as I seem to be in the mood for confessing, I might as well admit that I also kept, as souvenirs, one of her long, mittened, silk stockings and a little flexible, heelless velvet slipper. Alas! all these things — letters, photographs and souvenirs went the way of all such mementos after I lost touch with her and other interests claimed me!
She disappeared from the fairs — and from my life — two or three years after I first met her. I had left Paris some little while before that. I am pretty sure she married, probably a wealthy man; but I never learnt. Anyhow, as far as I know, she is not appearing publicly anywhere to-day.
With best wishes for the continued success of "London Life"
Yours sincerely,
Wallace Stort.



User avatar

Topic Author
Bazil
Старожил
Posts: 514
Joined: 01 Sep 2017, 23:35
Reputation: 283
Sex: male
Has thanked: 698 times
Been thanked: 630 times
Russia

Re: Letters to the magazine "London Life" 1924-1941

Post: # 25330Unread post Bazil
10 Feb 2018, 10:26

1937

London Life January 10, 1937 p. 30
How He Met His Wife
Dear Sir, — Wallace Stort's recent excellent story has moved me to write of my own experience.
In the summer of 1928 I took my holiday on a small farm in North Devon. I had spent two previous holidays there, and was treated almost as one of the family.
I arrived by car at noon on a beautiful summer day, and after lunch the farmer, George West, asked me if I would do him a great favour. In response to my enquiry as to what was required, the farmer explained that a niece, a Miss Olive West, was due to arrive from London at Lynton Station at four o'clock, and that he was unable to meet her owing to urgent business. He was anxious that she should be met, as it was her first visit, and more particularly because she was handicapped by the loss of a leg. Would I be so kind to deputise for him?
I agreed, and enquired as calmly as I could whether the girl would be on crutches or use an artificial leg. He did not know, but thought I should have no difficulty in recognising her, as she was 20 years old and fair and pretty. Even if she wore an artificial leg there should be no difficulty.
On the way to the station I cooled down a bit. After all, the girl would probably be wearing an artificial leg, which would spoil things for me. However, in due course the train arrived, and I watched expectantly. From one of the small carriages at the rear of the train I saw a neat feminine figure alight, supported by crutches. As I approached, a downward glance showed that below her then fashionable short skirt only one shapely leg appeared, her left leg. Closer inspection showed that she was indeed a queen among monopedes, quite the prettiest one-legged girl I had ever seen, attractively dressed and with a most charming figure, too. Pulling myself together, I introduced myself and explained matters.
I directed her to the car amid the curious stares of the other holiday makers, and we drove safely back to the farm. She chatted merrily on the way, and in spite of my nervous excitement, I fell in with her mood and soon felt as though I had known her for years.
Olive used a single crutch for dinner that evening, and it fascinated me to see the sensuous grace with which she clung to it. After dinner George showed her round the farm and I sat in a deck chair outside the house awaiting her return. After a while she returned. I immediately asked her to come for a short drive.
"Oh, thanks," she exclaimed, "I should very much like to run down to Lee Bay for a swim. It's on the late side, and I don't suppose there will be many people to stare at me. Perhaps you would bathe too."
We obtained our things and took the seats in the car, and I asked her: "As we shall be seeing a good deal of each other during the next fortnight, may I call you Olive? My name is Fred."
"Yes, Fred," she smilingly responded, "You may, if you wish it; but you are not to feel under any obligation towards me."
"If you will let me take you out every day, I shall be only too pleased," was my reply.
We arrived at Lee Bay, and before I could help, Olive had jumped from the car. I was in time, however, to adjust her crutch under her right armpit, for which service she thanked me with her delightful and provocative smile. We made our way over the beach to the rocks, which then provided all there was in the way of bathing-hut accommodation.
On reaching the rocks, she handed me her crutch, so as to be able to use both hands in scrambling over them. We found convenient spots, and separated to undress. Soon I heard her voice enquiring if I was ready and, on my replying that I was, I turned to see her standing on a nearby rock.
She wore a regulation costume, which served to accentuate the beautiful lines of her figure.
I helped her down to the sea and insisted on carrying her in, although she protested her ability to hop. That was the first of many thrilling experiences with the girl who is now my wife.
I will not extend this letter further, since Wallace Stort in his story explained accurately and more ably than I can the life of a one-legged wife.
With the best wishes for the New Year the New Year,
Yours truly, Roy The Second.


London Life March 13, l937
Happy On One
Dear Sir, — It seems a long time since any letters appeared in your issues about or from monopedes, and some of your readers would welcome many more, especially if some were accompanied by really good photographs.
I would like to tell you of an experience I had on an express train.
I entered a compartment just before the train left, and noticed an extremely pretty girl, very well dressed, sitting in the corner opposite me. I became absorbed in my paper, and then fell asleep to be awakened by the attendant calling out that lunch was served.
I got up with a start and was surprised to see the girl was standing up, reaching on the rack for a pair of crutches, and then I noticed that she was balancing on one leg only, as her right leg was missing.
She moved down the corridor towards the dining car, and I followed. She had some difficulty in negotiating the narrow passage owing to the oscillation of the train and to the fact that she wore on her foot only a spike-heeled black patent-leather court shoe.
In crossing from one carriage to the next, where the movement was greatest, she stumbled and lost her grip of her crutch, which fell. I saved her from falling, picked up her dainty crutch and placed it under her armpit, for which I was rewarded with a charming smile and her thanks.
We lunched together, and I piloted her back to her compartment. When she had regained her seat she told me that she had first suffered a broken right leg, which had resulted in a serious shortage of the limb, and her foot had become perfectly stiff and straight, with her toes pointing downwards, and even then she could not touch the ground by some inches. She was thus obliged to use crutches.
Some time later she met with a motor accident, and this same leg was smashed up at the knee, and she then had to have a high amputation of the leg, which had been no use except as an ornament.
She had in the past been very proud of her legs as they were beautifully shaped. As some compensation for the loss of one of these, she and her friends had admired so much, she resolved to make the most of her remaining one by always clothing her left leg in a silken stocking and wearing the highest of high heel on her single foot, thereby trying to forget her sadly crippled state.
She had absolutely refused to wear an artificial leg, and had become very happy on her slender black crutches, and never grumbled that she was a crippled one-legged girl, as she knew that her appearance was unharmed by the use of them; and so must certainly thought.
Yours truly,
A Mere Male.


London Life March 27, 1937 pp. 16, 17 and 18
Spinning Lady Solopede
or
"The Greatest Show on Earth"
(See story-files!...)


London Life April 10, 1937 p. 25
No Regrets
Dear Sir, — I am a regular reader of your magazine and very interested in most of the subjects which come under discussion. I first started to read it five years ago, about six months after an accident which led to the eventual amputation of my right leg, which at the time seemed to mean the end of everything worth while.
I came across one or two letters which made me realise that there were still interests which a one-legged girl could follow, and I commenced by paying more attention to my personal attractions, and from using hardly any make-up at all, became in a short time an ardent devotee in nearly all its forms.
I found that to many men my one leg discreetly displayed was more attractive than the two had been, and that the vivid make-up I commenced to use completed the good work of nature which has blessed me with a well— developed figure, plenty of curves in the right places, a small waist, and a shapely ankle.
When in public I use a pair of elbow crutches, and usually wear a very high-heeled shoe (4 inches, or even over), but in the house a single crutch suffices, whilst I enjoy hopping about on my bare foot without such aid, which I can do quite easily.
Two years ago I became an earring convert and had my ears pierced. Within a few months those piercings were converted into long slits in each lobe, through which I now wear most bizarre and heavy earrings. In addition, I had the centre of each ear pierced in order to wear small gold studs, which look very effective especially when I favour large-sized gilt studs.
I favour a deep crimson lip-stick, and my finger-nails are usually coloured deeply to match. I also use coloured nail-polish for my toes. My eyebrows have been all plucked out and replaced by a pencil-line. This, together with a generous use of mascara and fringe, completes my usual make-up; but for evening wear I like to use the rouge-pot with equal generosity.
I enjoy showing my figure and other attractions to the best possible advantage, and am not a believer in false modesty in this respect.
I was married twelve months ago, and the loss of a leg has certainly had its compensations in my own case, and I do not regret my condition at all now. In fact, I am proud of the extra attention it gets me.
Yours truly, One-Leg Preferred.


London Life April 10, 1937 pp. 21
Who Invented "Monopede?"
Dear Sir, — Some time ago I sent you a photo of myself driving a car and wearing 5 inch heels, which you were good enough to publish. I have since had a pair with 6 inch heels made for me, and when I am a little more used to them and the sun shines again I hope to send you some more snaps wearing my new heels. I must admit that these heels are a bit of a problem, but I already had a short walk on them out of doors, and hope soon to be as at home on them as I am on my 5 inches.
My real reason for writing, however, is because I came across some letters in "London Life" from one-legged girls, and was surprised to find this subject of interest for some of your readers. I happen to have a girlfriend who has a left leg off close to the hip, and I showed her these letters. She at once confessed that she had received many attentions from men who were attracted by her single leg, and that she herself had become rather thrilled by it.
She usually hops about on a single crutch and is usually quite clever on her one leg. She is always very interested in high heels, though she wears a low heel on her one foot. In the house she hops about without a crutch, and to see her go upstairs on her single leg always rather fascinates me. From long practice her balance is perfect, and she is always merry and bright and makes light of her amputation.
I am trying to persuade her to write to "London Life" and give some of her experiences.
My friend is highly amused at being called a "monopede" and wonders who invented that word.
However, to return to my favourite subject of high heels, I wish more girls would wear high ones in public. I myself are quite hardened to people's stare and comments, and thoroughly enjoy being on them. When I have to wear 3 inches to 4 inches I feel quite miserable and flat-footed, but when I am on my highest I feel happy and exhilarated.
Yours truly, High-Heeled Enthusiast.


London Life April 24, 1937 p. 59
Lost & Gained
Dear Sir, — Your Xmas number happened to fall into my hands, and it surprised me to know that such a snappy publication was obtainable, and I found it very interesting. Among the contents I was more than interested in the very human story of the monopede bride, as the case of my own wife is very comparable to the case of the heroine of your story. Perhaps your readers would like a sketchy outline of the circumstances.
I have been employed as a clerk to a large shoe manufacturers since a boy, and work in a general office amongst about thirty other fellows and ten girls, one of whom, while I had certainly noted her good looks, I had taken no more interest than one would normally with a fellow worker.
One morning this girl failed to turn up, and later on we learned that she had been knocked off her cycle by a car while on the way to the office, and had been taken to hospital seriously injured. Some weeks later we were informed that, owing to the complications, her left leg had been amputated.
Several of the girls visited her in hospital, and naturally the office was generally interested in her progress.
The Firm was very considerate and kept her job open, and after four month's absence she came back to work.
I shall always remember the morning she came back. I had arrived early and was chatting to several more of the staff when someone said, "Here's Elsie, and turning round I saw her coming through the door at the far end of the office and walk very carefully along on a pair of ebony crutches to the end of the long room.
I shall always carry that picture of her in my memory, for from that moment I fell for her completely and, to carry a long story short, we were married two years ago.
She very soon got wonderfully clever manipulating her crutches, and used to amaze us with the speed she got about. She had dressed always very smartly, and since the accident she had been more particular in her appearance and style of dressing, and always wears a smart shoe. She has a smart foot and can wear a court shoe with a 4 inch heel equally well as a brogue.
We have a nice little bungalow for our home, as it is easier for Elsie to work than a house with stairs, which are always a nuisance to a monopede.
I am enclosing a snap in which she is wearing a green two-piece costume with a green one-bar suede shoe with a 4 inch heel.
Yours truly, Rex.


London Life May 22, 1937 p. 22
Not So Crazy
Dear Sir, — I have come to England for the Coronation, having lived nearly all my life in South Africa.
I have a friend over here who has shown me "London Life" — all your back numbers bound into nice fat volumes. What a splendid paper, and how sorry I am that I have never heard of it before!
You see I am a follower of the cult of slender waists and high heels, having a number of girls at home who are similarly interested. We have parties to display our latest corsets and shoes, and turns in lacing one another in.
I held the record with an 18 inches waist for two years, but have now been beaten by half an inch.
They still keep me as president of the club, however, because it was my idea at the outset, and also they regard me as rather unique for the reason that I possess only one leg. You don't see many one-legged girls about, and I don't suppose there is another one-legged tight-lacer in South Africa. I lost my right leg at the hip, when I was quite a kid, and am so used to it now that I can hop around even wearing the highest of heels, and at our meetings I never use crutches at all.
When I am laced into a really severe corset I can only move about with the help of a girlfriend on each side of me, and a fine trio we look — five perfect silk-clad limbs and three stem waists.
I find everyone most kind over here, and I'm going to have a wonderful time. People stare rather a lot at my leg because of the very high heeled— shoes I wear, I suppose.
It seems to be taken for granted that a girl who has lost a leg must limp around on crutches looking dejected and wearing a flat heel.
Because I enjoy life on one leg and look as though I enjoyed it, and am proud to show off my single prop to its best advantage, I am thought to be a bit crazy.
Never mind — I don't, and will write you again later.
Yours truly, S. A. Monopede.


London Life May 29, 1937 p. 59
Happy Though Lame
Dear Sir, — I promised to write you another letter ages ago, but as I have been away up North on a cattle station, did not have the opportunity. I have had "London Life" posted to me regularly, and just recently have been very disappointed at the lack of letters by monopedes and lame girls. While I was away I particularly enjoyed that fine illustrated article by "Cripplegate", published in the Spring Surprise number.
I promised to tell you about two girls that I know who are quite cheerful and happy in spite of being lame.
The first one has a club-foot of the type known as "Talipies equinus" and, through being born in the Far North, could not receive early treatment and be cured. She is now 26 and was happily married three and a half years ago. Her husband just worships her, and he told me one day that it was her club foot that attracted him in the first place.
The other girl is only 18 years old. She has a withered right leg which is 5 3/4 inches shorter than her left leg. With a high boot fitted with leg— irons she can walk a little way slowly. This she uses to help with the housework, but when she goes out visiting or shopping she uses a pair of crutches. It is quite a thrill to see her swinging along and her right leg just gently swaying to and fro.
I have written too much already, but I do hope to soon to see some more stories by Wallace Stort, and letters by "Cripplegate", "Single High Heel", "Big Boot" etc.
Yours truly, Magpie
South Australia


London Life July 31, 1937 p. 75
Monopedes And Long Hair
Dear sir, — "Leon" seems to have failed to realise the versatility of "London Life", or else he is unreasonable in expecting that only subjects he is interested in should be dealt with.
"London Life" in its correspondence covers a greater range than any other journal in Great Britain, including matters other magazines do not touch.
As a new reader I have been delighted to read the letters on long hair and one-legged ladies, because of certain associations. In stage life I have seen lots of lovely long hair; and as regards monopedes, I had a sweetheart who had lost a leg. She was sweet and happy but later Death claimed her, and I have not since been able to get a monopede friend. I therefore eagerly read every word in "London Life" on these two topics, and hope that letters full of details about them will continue to appear.
I suggest that the elastic nature of the correspondence in "London Life" provides "Leon" with the opportunity of reading about whatever he may be greatly interested in.
I thank "Click" for his further contribution. I also hope "Another Monopede" will write further details of her progress and adventures.
I have two postcard albums of long haired beauties, mostly actresses, which I am willing to place at the disposal of the Editor for reproduction if acceptable.
Yours truly, Long Tresses Adorent.


London Life July 31, 1937 p. 83
A Unique Apparatus
Dear Sir, — I have been encouraged by letters from monopedes in your excellent publication to make my contribution to the topic in which I am interested.
I am acquainted with a monopede named Doris, being without either left arm or left leg (both amputated at shoulder or hip, respectively). Far from being inactive and confined to a wheeled chair, she has overcome a seemingly insuperable handicap in a novel fashion.
She has a unique apparatus specially constructed, which consists of a steel band, leather covered, to encircle her just under the armpits. To this is fastened two pole crutches, one going under her right arm, the other where her left shoulder is rounded off.
She is thus enabled to hold the right one normally, but the left has nothing to guide it and needs support. This is achieved by a strap from the steel chest band being fastened under her left stump so as to take the weight when walking. Crossed shoulder straps carry the crutch forward when the weight is on her only leg.
To avoid disarranging her dress, which the stump strap would, two holes are cut in the dress and the strap threaded through before tightening under the stump.
Doris only wears this apparatus out of doors, as she can hop easily in the house, and to hide the unsightly straps she puts on a coat controlling the right crutch by having a through pocket made so that she can grip the pole.
I greatly admire her courage and independence, as she is unable to walk far as it is very tiring and the fixed crutches do not allow her to sit down.
Yours truly, Monopede.


London Life August 7, 1937 p. 25
How About A Peg?
Dear Sir, — Many thanks for publishing my last letter to you, also the photo of my wife standing on her crutches, which snap was not too clear; but, however, your reprint was remarkably good.
I am enclosing another one of my wife seated on the settee showing off an exquisite shoe in black suede with a very smart 4 inch heel, and trust that this will be suitable for reproduction although printed on sepia.
We have been gratified to note that you have other limbless lady readers, and have been interested in the letters from "Another Monopede", "Single High Heel", and a lady who signs herself "One Leg Preferred". We hope these will write again, telling of their experiences.
My wife would like to know whether any of your readers have used a wooden peg-leg, and whether there are any advantages with these contraptions. She has the idea that one would be useful about the house when she is cooking, etc, as she would then have her hands free. At the present time she has a chair which is just the right height to rest on as she stands at the sink or table; but in a small kitchenette, as ours is, this takes up valuable space.
She has no desire to appear in public either in a wooden leg or in an artificial leg, neither do I wish it, as unless one has the very best artificial limb (which is an exorbitant price), one develops a much more awkward walk than a person on a pair of crutches, whose walk, when experienced, I think is quite graceful.
Yours truly, Rex.


London Life August 21, 1937 p. 21
Peg-Leg
Dear Sir, — As a long and regular reader of "London Life", and being a monopede, I am naturally very interested in letters from other one-legged girls; but I regret to say that these are far too infrequent, and so also are Wallace Stort's stories.
Some years ago, when a young flapper I met with an accident which eventually necessitated the amputation of my right leg, and after being in hospital for some time I came home with my left leg and the other lopped off just above the knee joint.
I shall never forget the extraordinary sensation of trying to use a foot which I had not got. However, after being first on a pair of crutches and then on a single one until my thigh stump became firm-fleshed and hard, I commenced the acquaintance of my first peg-leg, and I have never worn any other kind, so that naturally I look upon my peg-leg as part of my natural self. In fact, strange as it may seem to appear, I definitely prefer my so— called "handicap attraction", inasmuch as I have never really missed my natural leg, and especially as most of my men friends tell me that they find my peg-leg most alluring.
I must say that I find it very fascinating walking on a peg-leg, as it gives me the sensation as though walking on a leg with a stiff knee-joint, but I must admit that it certainly does draw some attention, especially when I go to a theatre or dinner in a tight-fitting short evening dress; but as I am not in the least self-conscious of my peg-legged monopede condition, I do not attempt to disguise the loss of my limb. As a matter of fact I am inclined to be rather proud of the extra-attention my "peggy" and single silk-clad natural leg get me; and, after all, it is not my fault I am minus a leg.
I have two peg-legs, and they are both of them black polished ebony, tapered to the bottom and finishing up with a small rubber heel at the bottom which prevents jarring, and most of my friends tell me that they infinitely prefer to see a leg of this description than an artificial one which causes the wearer to either limp or walk with a stick, whereas I can step out with anyone without any aid whatever, and never get distressed with a sore stump, which I think would occur if I wore an artificial leg in an endeavour to cover up the loss of my missing one.
I have the reputation of always being smartly dressed and wear the latest style of shoe, but with an ordinary heel, as I find that I walk more evenly as I go stumping along the country roads most week-ends.
Well, "Tom", you asked for a peg-legger's experiences, and here they are from a most ardent user, and I shall be most interested to hear that you decide to become a convert to one, because I am sure that if you do you will never give it up for any other sort as they are no trouble to put on, just a belt round the waist, besides being most comfortable and giving to the stump, also you would soon get accustomed to the imaginary feeling that you are being stared at, and I do most heartily agree with you — why try to cover up the loss of a leg you are minus of and, as you say, and deny yourself any kick there may be derived from being a one-legged monopede? I can assure you that I get heaps of amusement in life with my wooden prop.
I really do admire the unusual pattern of your crutch as shown in the snap of yourself seated in a chair, but should very much like to have seen it to its full advantage and use under your arm.
Please write further to "London Life" on this subject, as letters from us limbless writers are too few and far between.
I hope you can find space for this, my first letter to "London Life"
Yours truly, Confirmed Peg-Legger.


London Life September 11, 1937 p. 25
A Happy Cripple
Dear Sir, — May I, as a reader of your paper since 1928, have a little grouse? In a nutshell, it is this:
When are you going to give us a new Stort story?
I trust that you will not work your way through all the old ones before you decide to get Stort to write a new one.
So much for the grouse; now to explain my interest in the stories.
As I have said I have been a reader for the past nine years, and for just that length of time I have been married to a one-legged girl.
She was not a monopede when I married her, but became so within the first month of our married life.
I was a second engineer on a ship which made the run to New Zealand, with a run up the American coast now and then, after a short courtship I married my wife between trips.
She was 20 at the time, fond of games and sport and, of course, a keen dancer. She is very short-sighted and is compelled to wear glasses continually.
She is blessed with the most glorious head of copper-coloured hair I have ever seen and has the lovely pure white complexion which sometimes goes with that class of hair.
After a brief honeymoon, I had to join my ship for a run which was to take six months, but which with other charters took just nine from the date of leaving London until we tied up in the river again.
On the way back to our lodgings (where we had spent the last three days of our honeymoon, and which was to serve us for a permanent home until such time as I could swallow the anchor), my wife was knocked down by a car and, as a result, her left leg was taken off at the knee at a point just above the joint.
As a result of the shock and other injuries she lost her memory for a short while and could not tell the hospital people her name and address, with the result, that I continued on the voyage in ignorance of what had happened; and even when I did receive a letter from her at Wellington, N.Z., she concealed the gravity of her accident from me, and it was not until I was actually in London that I suspected something was wrong as she said she was unable to meet me at the dock.
I had made plans for an extension of our honeymoon, and all sorts of other things, as the vessel was due for a long spell in dock for re-fit, and shot off home as fast as I could. Arrived at our lodgings at dusk, and found my wife at home seated in a deep armchair and wearing a long full summery dress which swept to the floor as she sat and which completely concealed her feet.
I naturally swept her into my arms and hugged her, and even when I held her at arm's length to admire her I noticed nothing wrong, but when I noticed a strained, frightened expression on her face, I asked what was the matter, and for reply she kept her grip on my shoulder with one hand and with the other raised her frock from the ground, and although I noticed that only one foot was visible, I still did not guess the truth, and not until I went to draw her to me did I notice that she hopped, and then I knew that she was a least lame.
I asked point-blank what was wrong, and she burst into tears, saying: "My leg has gone!"
She then told me all about the accident, and that she was afraid that I should no longer want her for my wife, as she said that "she was only half a woman now." But somehow, although I had never been attracted in a way to a one-legged woman before although, in common with most men, I had always taken a second look at a one-legged girl — found that my darling was a thousand times more attractive as a cripple than she was as an active girl.
She seemed so helpless and appealing that I got the idea that I had always wanted her to be in a greater degree dependent on me than she had been as a normal woman.
A meal had been prepared for my return, and after an interval in which we said and did things which are of concern only to ourselves, we moved to the room for the meal, and then I had my first task as a one-legged girl's husband. I found her crutch from where she had placed it so that she thought it should be out of my sight on meeting her for the first time, placed it under her arm and watched her make her way before me to the next room.
I then had my first sight of the woman I loved as she moved with a slow graceful dip and swinging motion on her one crutch she was to consider her best friend for the rest of her life. She had gathered her dress in her hand as she moved, and I saw that her love for smart shoes was still not killed in spite of her being a cripple.
After some time when I had really persuaded her that her crippledom had not altered my love for her, she became her old self again and we made plans for the renewal of our honeymoon, but for some reason she would not consent to leave for it for two days.
In those days I had quite reconciled her to her new conditions, and she used to delight me by dressing in the fashion I had last seen her short dresses, vivid make-up and a high-heeled shoe. Her complexion and her copper hair demanded that she used a brilliant lipstick, and one of my last presents to her had been a pair of long paste earrings of pendants, and these, with her large horn-rimmed glasses, combined with my pearl grey silk stockings in conjunction with a black high-heeled court shoe, sent me into raptures.
On the third morning a carrier delivered to the door a long stout cardboard box, and this was the reason that she would not consent to leave at once on our renewed honeymoon. My wife asked me to open it, and you can imagine my surprise to find a new leg in it.
The leg had been made for a heel of the stock height — about 2 inches — so that when my darling is wearing one of her high heels in the evening in the house she has a delightful little dip in her walk as she limps about the house.
Now, after nine years of married life, I still am as fascinated with my crippled wife as when I saw her after that long sea voyage. I have left the sea now, and have settled down in the small town from which I am writing with the daughter my one-legged darling presented me with, and who has long since ceased asking "Where is mummy's other leg?"
We should both like to see letters from a girl with a short leg, and a girl with a club foot accompanied by a photograph, in order to complete my collection of photos of which I have a good number, but they are all of one-legged girls.
Later I will give you an account of our three-legged camping tour.
Yours truly, Timber Toe.


London Life September 25, 1937 p. 47
Not Embarrassed
Dear Sir, — there have been several letters in "London Life" about monopedes with pin legs, so I am sending you a snap of a girlfriend of mine wearing her wooden leg.
Her right leg was taken off above the knee about six years ago and she has never been on crutches. She rides a bike, swims and does most of the things other girls do.
The snap is one of her getting on her bike. She is a charming girl and not one bit shy or embarrassed by her pin-leg.
Lover Of Monopedes.


London Life September 25, 1937 p. 48
Not Imagination
Dear Sir, — I am very pleased to see that we are once more getting letters from monopedes. I have just finished reading the triple number with photos of "Single High Heel" and "Another Monopede". I do hope you will publish more of them. I am enclosing the following cutting from one of our daily newspapers.
Extraordinary Case of Self-Inflicted Gangrene.
The extraordinary case of a former nurse who produced artificially upon herself the symptoms of a certain form of gangrene so successfully that her fingers and subsequently an arm was amputated in good faith is reported in the current "British Medical Journal".
After a number of operations she again produced a piece of "gangrene" on an other part of her skin and was admitted to hospital for observation. This time her efforts were detected, and her remaining limb being firmly bandaged so that she could not get at it, the condition instantly cleared.
According to the famous London specialist who treated and now describes the case, this sort of thing is not rare. Quite a number of patients have from time to time deliberately produced lesions on themselves to such an effect that amputation becomes inevitable. Though sometimes the self-inflictions may be committed in moments of hysteria, there seems to be no doubt that other occasions have shown the act to be deliberately planned weeks ahead.
This shows that Wallace Stort's heroine, "Lady Moira Pomeroy" in "Dr. Nicholas" is not a case of vivid imagination, as some of your readers might think.
Yours truly, Magpie


London Life October 2, 1937 pp. 23 — 24
"Blackpool Girl" Opens Fire On Everybody
Dear Sir, — Here are a few brickbats to begin with, and a nice large one for conceited "Leon", who breeds cats and wants to see animal stories in "London Life"
Look here, "Leon", do you, or don't you, read the daily papers? There are enough pet's corners and animal stories to delight your heart, without entreating the editor of this paper to let you fill valuable columns with your particular non-sense. Ever since you began writing to the editor you have wanted to re-model "London Life" nearer to your hearts desire, quite irrespective what other readers want.
Don't you realise that if "London Life" wasn't just as it is, we wouldn't buy it? You get your share of Readers' Forum space but all you do in your letters is grumble. If it's not girls and their interest that are wrong, its something else. All who write are out of step but you, if we are to believe your letters and you won't agree with anybody. It may be spite, or it may be your honest convictions; but whatever it is, "chuck it", as we say in the Lancaster vernacular. If you don't like "London Life", buy another paper with your precious sixpence.
I hope that this brickbat raises a nice large bump on your ego, my lad!
Admires their Courage.
May I give a few bouquets to brave monopedes who retain their attraction and daintiness despite their handicap? Having the whole legs myself, and being a bit of a coward, I am afraid that if some accident happened to rob me of one that I should be woeful enough to let my appearance run to seed. All the same, I don't agree with Wallace Stort when he says that monopedes should make a feature of their stumps. After all, it does harass and worry the general public to see an infirmity paraded.
I don't want, by the above sentences, to hint that my admiration for these brave people is mixed with censure, for it is not; but I am not in entire agreement with Mr. Stort after reading his "At the Moignon d'Or" most carefully.
I know a monopede — her name, Dawn, is as lovely as herself but she agrees that the true art of monopeding is to conceal the deficiency as much as possible and, to this purpose, uses a slender metal crutch of silver colour which harmonises well with all her gowns, which come to below the knee.
I gave her the "Moignon d'Or" story to read, and she is contemplating writing a long letter to you, setting forth her own views on the subject.
Dawn is a very popular girl among our set, and is so nimble that her infirmity is hardly ever noticed; and strangest of all, she is a leading light of the local hiking club! If that isn't courage, and a noble victory over a malignant fate, I would like to know what it is; but I perhaps rather let her write her own opinion to you.
Now I have a few words to say to "Libran".
One in the Eye for "Libran".
"Libran" doubts the power and sway of women's Masonic lodges, and whether or not they are the real thing. I maintain that they are, and here's the proof.
There was once an official woman "Brother" of the male lodge, a Mrs. Aldworth (nйe Miss St. Leger, daughter of Lord Doneraile), who was initiated in the eighteenth century. Legend say that she hid in a cupboard at a lodge meeting, and when she was discovered the masons had no option than to initiate her. Whether the version of the legend is true or not, I don't think that there is the slightest doubt that the lady actually did become a member of the Masonic lodges.
Of the women's lodges in England, blonde Mrs. Seton Challon was installed as Most Worshipful Grand Master of the HFAF (Honourable Fraternity of Ancient Freemasons) in the Temple of the Mather Lodge at St. Ermin's, Westminster, in 1934.
Statistics tell us that the world-wide membership of Masonry is approximately 5 millions, and about 1 million "unofficial" Masons exist, including a group of American Negroes.
The importance of the women's lodges is evident, whether men agree or not; and physically women are so constituted that they make the very best Masons, especially when it comes to the esoteric side of the craft.
Any answer from "Libran" to that, or does he still sneer at us now? He's a bit like "Marquis of the Old Regime". If he doesn't like a thing, he will pretend that it does not exist, in typical Libra fashion. Should the world be composed of Librans, progress would stand still. Look at China for proof of that.
China has stand still for centuries, and that is ruled by Libra. Librans may be good lovers, impartial judges and mercy loving, but they are very obstinate people when it comes to any matter which they do not approve of; and that, I think, is the secret of "Libran's" attack on "Inquisitive Student".
Well, Mr. Editor, I've rambled on a bit, but I do like may say along with the rest. So here's the letter, hoping that you will see fit to print the same at an early date. I am very glad that we are getting some new topics for debate; it livens up the Readers' Forum and makes things hum.
I shall be writing to you again at a very early date, I hope, as soon as I have anything new to say, and in the meantime would like the correspondents I have mentioned to reply to this letter of mine.
Wishing you all the best,
Yours truly, Blackpool Girl.


London Life October 9, 1937 p. 21
A Nasty Fall
Dear Sir, — One of your correspondents recently stated one seldom sees one— legged girls about. This is certainly true, and it is rather astonishing that, in view of the number of accidents that occur, both in London and the provinces as a result of which girls' legs are frequently amputated, monopedes are conspicuous by their absence.
Perhaps some of your readers who have suffered the loss of a leg can explain why this is, and when and where such people are to be seen, as it seems obvious that they must go about.
Having it fall to my lot a short while ago to see a charming girl, dressed admirably, hopping along on a pair of elbow crutches, for she was minus her right leg. Her remaining leg was encased in a silk stocking, and on her one foot she wore a very high-heeled black court shoe.
She moved along quite gaily until she commenced to descend the stairs to the Piccadilly Circus Underground, and then I noticed that she somehow wavered before descending these, thus indicating to me a lack of confidence.
At Charing Cross, where stations had to be changed, the same hesitation was shown, especially when getting on the escalator, and it culminated in her single foot slipping on something, when first one crutch, and then the other, slipped from her grasp and she fell down lengthwise along the stone steps, rolling over and over until she nearly reached the bottom.
Fortunately, she was unhurt, only badly shaken. I and another picked her up; but, fearing she would be left standing alone, she first pleaded for her crutches, and after a short rest resumed her journey. But I observed that she was very shaky in mounting the next flight, and I thought she would topple backwards.
Now the point arises as to whether these elbow crutches are really safe. Had this girl used ordinary armpit ones, I doubt whether she would have fallen — certainly she would not have let themo off. The whole strain of the elbow kind being on the arms, and her confidence having left her, she was forced to drop them when she stumbled.
I do not think the cause of her fall was due to her single high heel, as she seemed perfectly at home on this.
Perhaps some of your crippled readers will give their views as to the safety or otherwise of elbow crutches for one-legged girls who wish to retain their undoubted attraction in having only one leg and desire that it should be shod in as high heeled a shoe as it is possible to wear.
An attractive girl with a single leg needs to have no fear that she is marred by being a cripple, for if she dresses that one leg and single foot of her attractively, she has a far greater appeal than have her two-legged sisters.
I should like to congratulate "Another Monopede" on the excellent snaps you published, and to express the hope that she will send you another taken standing on her crutches (as she promised) and wearing her one very high— heeled court shoe. Perhaps, too, she will tell us what height this heel is, and if she experiences any difficulty in negotiating stairs wearing an ultra high heel, having only one leg and using crutches.
Yours truly, A Mere Man.


London Life October 23, 1937
Married Monopedes
Dear Sir, — I picked up a copy of "London Life" in a train at Brighton, and was very interested in the story by Wallace Stort of "A Strange Lover's Experience".
I have been a reader ever since, although this is my first letter to "London Life". I am 24 and have been one-legged for nine years. I lost my right leg in a motor-cycle accident, it being amputated too high to wear an artificial limb. I have to use a crutch.
I have been married three years now. My husband also has one leg, he having lost his when quite young. We are both of a very happy disposition, and our one-legged condition does not worry us in the least. We go about the house without crutches. We both dress very smartly when we go out, myself wearing a court shoe with a 4 inch heel.
We would like to hear more from other one-leggers.
I will write in my next letter some of our experiences, accompanied by some snaps.
Trusting this, my first letter, is suitable for publishing.
Yours truly, Married Monopede.


London Life November 13, 1937 r
Letter From A Brave Girl
Dear Sir, — Some time ago my friend, "Blackpool Girl", wrote to you and told me about you. I am "Dawn", a crippled girl with only one leg, and I have read Mr. Stort's letters and "Moignon d'Or" story with interest, as it dealt with girls similarly afflicted.
May I say that I don't agree wholly with Mr. Stort?
Like most monopedes, I am sensitive about my amputated limb, and strive to conceal it on all occasions. I therefore wouldn't dream of going swimming in a mixed group, but bathe (I can't really call it "swim") in the company of two girlfriends who appreciate my difficulties, and who do not cause me embarrassment.
I find that men are very kind and considerate to me, but my crippled state embarrasses them frightfully, and I am sure that if they saw my amputated stump of leg it would not intrigue, but merely sadden them. So I keep it concealed, never wearing too short skirts nor provocatively brief sun suits for that very reason.
I go hiking on my slender crutch because before my accident I was an outdoor girl, and determined not to let my infirmity get me down. I can also do simple dancing, like the waltz, using my crutch in lieu of the missing leg (not a simple thing, I assure you!) but though I am quite popular, I can't pretend that my infirmity interests any young man as it did the hero of Mr. Stort's story.
Men are kind to me, and sorry for me, but not attracted to me any more than they are to the other girls. I often feel that my missing limb has robbed me of a lot in life, but when I see other people, worse crippled than myself, I just thank the good God for things like a straight spine, fairly pretty face, and health and strength.
No, Mr. Stort, in spite of your kind letters and articles, we monopedes are under no delusions that we are all the more attractive by virtue of our missing limb. Our daily life forbids us to indulge in that amusement, let me say.
I am very interested in clothes and jewellery, and would dearly love to wear an anklet on my sound limb, but have not yet done so, as others think that it will only draw attention to my crippled condition.
What do your readers think? Would they like to give their opinions on the matter for me?
Hoping to see replies to this letter (my first to any paper) from all your readers.
Yours truly, Dawn.



User avatar

Topic Author
Bazil
Старожил
Posts: 514
Joined: 01 Sep 2017, 23:35
Reputation: 283
Sex: male
Has thanked: 698 times
Been thanked: 630 times
Russia

Re: Letters to the magazine "London Life" 1924-1941

Post: # 25331Unread post Bazil
10 Feb 2018, 10:27

London Life November 13, 1937 p. 26
Pegs v. Crutches
Dear Sir, — I have at last found time to send you a letter again, and am so glad to note that at last we seem to have persuaded the limbless lady readers and their friends to enter the correspondence arena, and air their views and seek advice.
To these last my letter is chiefly directed, and if I can be of any help I shall be more than pleased.
The first advice I wish to deal with is the request from "Rex" some weeks ago, who stated that his wife wished to try wearing a peg-leg mainly to assist her in her household duties.
I realise only too well the nuisance that crutches can be whilst one is cooking, for instance, to name but one of the many duties of the housewife; and provided her doctor raises no objection, she should certainly try one. She will find on inquiry that the cost is reasonable and that it is no trouble to attach just a belt round the waist and a socket, usually of leather, with a soft rubber pad to fasten round the stump.
She will find that after a few hours' use in the house she will be able to dispense with her crutches and have both hands free. Incidentally, and by this I do not wish to offend or displease any other reader, I do not care to see a peg-leg worn out of doors; a pair of crutches look far smarter and give the user more graceful movements.
My second advice is to your correspondent who signs himself "A Mere Man". I should think that the girl who had the misfortune to fall must have been a novice in the use of crutches, or perhaps it was the first time she had tried the elbow variety.
Regarding the safety query, I think that armpit crutches are certainly more support, as the whole body rests on the crutch itself, and an experienced monopede can walk without her hands even touching her crutches by simply gripping them to her sides with the upper arm, and moving them forward with a twist of the body, leaving her hands free. This method is very useful on a staircase, for one hand can be left free to grip the handrail.
The great advantage of elbow crutches to a legless girl is the fact that the clothes are not disarranged. It will be readily appreciated that the armpit type can soon spoil the appearance of a smart frock, and even a big coat rucks up and pulls out very quickly, whereas with the elbow type the whole weight is carried on the forearm. This makes their use for a long walk rather tiring and a strain on the wrists, but there is no doubt that they add to one's appearance and are very light to use. I always use a pair for evening wear and when visiting a theatre and like occasions.
The snapshot of "Lover of Monopedes" is excellent, and I think it is the first one you have ever published of a monopede wearing a peg-leg. She is to be congratulated to be able to cycle. But is you correspondent quite correct when he says that she has never used crutches? Surely she had to for a short time at least before she could wear a wooden leg!
Without wishing to be hypercritical, I am wondering whether the photo published in your issue of September 4, with the letter signed "Another Monopede", is quite a genuine monopede, for it appears to me that the girl in the picture is sitting on her left leg. If I am in error, I offer sincere apologies; but will she send a photo of herself standing with her crutches?
Yours truly, Single High Heel.


London Life November 13, 1937 p. 23
Thought He Was Potty
Dear Sir, — "Mere Man" asks why it is that so few one-legged girls are seen about the streets. The real reason is that so many who have lost a leg wear artificial legs, and it is very difficult to tell that they are wearing them.
I personally know two girls, one with her right leg off above the knee, and the other just below. Both wear artificial legs, and unless one knew, there is nothing but a slight limp to detect the loss.
I quite agree that a pretty girl on crutches with a single leg is a very attractive sight, but the girls themselves do not, in most cases, seem to realise this.
I sent some time ago a picture of a girl with a pin leg and her bike, which was published, but it is a very rare thing to see a girl about the streets with a pin leg.
Of course there must be hundreds of girls who have had a leg amputated, and the pity of it is that they do not know their own attractions. I tried to persuade one girl with an artificial leg to come out in the late evening with me on her crutches, but nothing would induce her to.
Another who was on crutches was quite unable to understand my admiration for her one-legged condition and, I am afraid, thought me quite "potty".
Personally I think the armpit type of crutch is safer than elbow crutches, and certainly very graceful if of the light French type of black polished wood.
Probably the girl your correspondent met, and who had the fall, had only been recently amputated, as most one-legged people can manage stairs and escalators with perfect safety, although it is more difficult to hop downstairs than up.
I hope any of your readers who are interested will try to introduce "London Life" to their one-legged friends and try to persuade them to send photos. Their actual identity is easily disguised.
Yours truly, Lover Of Monopedes.


London Life November 27, 1937 p. 71
Are They Fakes?
Dear Sir, — I have been noting with a good deal of interest the letters from limbless lady readers of "London Life" and have enjoyed the different accounts of these brave monopedes who have taken an unfortunate blow of Fate, and are happy and satisfied in facing life with their handicaps.
However, I am afraid I must find fault with some of the pictures which you print, accompanying these articles.
The snap which was printed with the letter signed "Another Monopede", which appeared a few months ago, in April, I think, was supposed to be of a young lady with an 8 inch stump. Yet the picture shown does not indicate any stump short of the lady's knee. The tucking under of her skirt and the width of her lap both appear to give the lady a knee amputation. The irregular shading to the left of the single leg shown looks as though they might have been made to cut the other leg from the picture, making the whole a fake. Perhaps I am wrong and the shading was only put in to show off the remaining limb to better advantage.
The two pictures in the September 4 issue might also quite easily be fakes, the positions of the ladies being such that they might quite easily be sitting on their other legs.
Perhaps I am too critical, but I am not writing this to say that I believe these pictures are faked or "doctored". I merely wish to point out that there is every indication that such "doctoring" was quite possible in the pictures shown. No doubt the majorities of the ones that you print are genuine, and I enjoy seeing them. The attitude these unfortunate young ladies have taken seems to belie what I have heard many people say: "I should rather die than lose a leg."
I am sure that there are many people in this world who admire monopedes more than they realise, and out of genuine interest, not mere curiosity, would like to see more letters and good pictures, some of them perhaps showing just how neat and trim a peg-leg can really look. The only I've ever seen on a lady was a rather clumsy looking affair.
Yours truly, Interested In Monopedes.


London Life November 27, 1937 p. 90
Don't Be Shy
Dear Sir, — After some weeks' silence, it was welcome to have some more letters from one-legged ladies.
I can assure "Dawn" that there really are some men who are particularly drawn by some mysterious power towards monopede ladies. Perhaps the protective instinct in the male explains it.
Most of these ladies, through sensitiveness, perhaps, seem very aloof when men make advances in that direction. Is "Dawn" shy in this way?
Monopedes, don't be shy about your affliction; be proud of it!
Yours truly, A Lover Of Lady Monopedes


London Life November 27, 1937 pp. 72 — 73
Learning From Experience
Dear Sir, — This is really a continuation of the letter I wrote to you some time ago, and to congratulate "Single High Heel" on winning a pair of garters for her admirable pen-and-ink sketch of herself and also to thank Rex for his snap of his wife.
I think I left off my last letter at the point at which my wife had fitted her new peg-leg and we were about to start on our second honeymoon.
Well, after a little practice in the house with the peg-leg and one crutch, and then with a stick, she was able to manage quite well on it unaided, but it was soon evident that long walks on her single high heel would be out of the question, as the risk of a turned ankle with the peg-leg and such a high heel was too great to chance.
Then came the question of wearing it in the street. She was too shy to risk doing so in the town in which we were so well known, so it was packed and taken with us, to be donned as soon as we were well on our way.
I bought a good second-hand car, an Army bell-tent, and all the usual camping gear, and off we started, leaving our rooms to the care of the landlady.
It was a small saloon car, and so on the very first morning my darling's troubles started. The roof was too low to permit her to get in whilst using her crutch, and she had to swing herself in with the aid of me, and so on the very first morning my darling's troubles started. The roof was too low to permit her to get in whilst using her crutch, and she had to swing herself in with the aid of her hands.
We had packed all the clothes we possessed, and with the tent, etc, and Hazel's spare crutch — taken in case of accident — we were very cramped, but quite merry.
During the packing I had found that Hazel had religiously preserved all her shoes — I mean the ones she would never use again — right from those she owned before her cripplehood commenced, and when I left these out from the cases she was rather blue for awhile, as it was only then, I think, that she realised that she was to be one-legged for ever.
Our intention was to make for the sea coast in the region of Worthing, and then to run along it as far as we possibly could, and then to run over the Devon Moors.
The first evening we found a secluded spot West of Worthing and, with a farmer's consent, pitched our first camp, I holding the tent erect whilst Hazel slipped the ropes over the pegs. She started to do this on her crutch, but ended by crawling on her knee — she said it was quicker that way.
Having established ourselves and had a meal, we went for a stroll along the country lane, and this was the first occasion on which Hazel used her peg— leg in the open.
As I have said it was of an old pattern — or at least of a pattern which is not in common use today, and up to this time she has always enlisted my aid in adjusting it, and with the fear that I should hurt her, I did not draw the lace tight enough, with the result that it started to slip and to chafe her, so we had to find a retreat and readjust it.
We had selected a soft brown brogue lace-up shoe with a wide and not too high heel for the first experiment, and a rather tight-fitting calf-length skirt, with the result that each step Hazel took was arrested before is completion, and I cannot say how fascinated I was at the sight of the trim black peg-leg, with its shiny rubber tip and her well-turned ankle peeping from beneath her skirt. We went about a quarter of a mile on this first attempt, and it was about all she could manage.
On returning to our camp another problem presented itself to us — the combination of a tight dress, a low chair, and a stiff peg-leg.
My girl had either to sit on the extreme edge of the chair in order to keep her wooden foot on the ground, or sit comfortably and let the leg protrude at right angles to her knee. Eventually she solved the problem in a way of her own. She adopted a wide, full skirt and sat at the side of her chair so that the leg could rest on the ground of its own weight; but when sitting on the ground she was always dependent upon me to help her to her feet, while for kneeling she put the wooden leg in front of her and, with the aid of her full skirt, did not expose too much of her stocking.
I remember at first that I used to tease her by grabbing her peg-leg at the foot when she was sitting and pretended to push her over backwards; but when I found she could deliver quite a good hefty kick with the rubber tip, I left her alone.
We gradually made our way along the South Coast with Hazel managing longer walks on each occasion and overcoming her shyness, so that before very long she wore the leg all day and went everywhere on it. We used to drive to the nearest town or village to do our shopping, and you can only guess at the attention Hazel attracted with her flaming copper hair, vivid lipstick, cream complexion, large horn-rimmed glasses, neat shoe, free swinging dress, and shiny black wooden leg. The only discordant note was the black leg and the brown shoe. She had several black leather shoes, but did not possess what she termed a "gravel crusher" in black, and, quite by accident one morning whilst cleaning the rubber tip and the leg itself, I found that the thin leg portion was detachable from the bucket or corset. This immediately gave me an idea, which was quickly put into execution.
I found that there was an old master carpenter in the village we were near at the time, and I told him what was wanted, and the result was a beautifully turned thin stem which fitted perfectly. I had him make me another, and then went on to complete my idea, with the aid of a fast-dying art — that of the saddler. I had one of the stems covered with thin brown leather, which I speedily polished till it gleamed, and the other I had enamelled white, so that now Hazel had match for three of her shoes — black, brown, and white.
During our stay in this area another problem cropped up — to be as speedily surmounted as the first. At home, of course, the bathing facilities were of the normal kind, and Hazel was able to swing herself into the bath by sitting on the edge and swinging her leg over the edge; but our camping equipment was not on so lavish a scale, and the best I could do was a canvas arrangement which needed gentle handling, so that it was difficult for Hazel to get in and out of the contraption, and on several occasions she split all the water. Also it was not nice for her to have to get me to lift her in and out each time, so that something had to be done which would enable her to enjoy her bath in privacy.
The outcome of this was that I found that she had been a keen swimmer before I married her, and I am also one of those rarities — a sailor who likes swimming.
I had the same old carpenter make her a crutch with a plain unpadded head, and Hazel then needed an extension to a bathing costume she purchased so that it formed a sort of pouch to contain her stump completely, and she walked in the river or pool with her crutch, and when she was in deep enough she jammed the crutch into the bed of the pool and swam along until she was tired, and then got the crutch out of the water and regained the shore. But even this was not so easy as it sounds. Hazel is so short— sighted that she is almost entirely helpless without her glasses, so that I had to remain with her as a pilot, so to speak.
Her bad sight caused also another spot of bother. On retiring for the night, and after the light is put out, she places her glasses on the ground by her pillow, and one night I had occasion to leave the tent. In the darkness I placed my hands on the glasses and smashed one of the lenses. We were in a very tiny village in Devon at the time, and it was quite impossible to replace the lens at once, so that almost two days elapsed before they were repaired, and in the meantime poor Hazel was practically blind. To make things worse, there was a blazing sun and this made her eyes ache so that she had to wear a pair of old smoked glasses of mine.
We had to go into the shop for food and things, and Hazel was too nervous to remain in the camp alone, so that I took her with me in the car, and as the inhabitants had not seen Hazel before, you can imagine the stir the "poor one-legged blind girl" caused. It was certainly no joke for Hazel, as she really was blind with the smoked glasses on, and I had actually to lead her everywhere we went for those two days.
By this time our trip had lasted a month, and we both began to feel that a jaunt to the pictures in a town would be a pleasant change, so one afternoon we changed into our glad rags and went into a large town some twenty or thirty miles away. Hazel was then wearing her poshest evening rig — a backless dress with a (then) very short skirt portion. With it she wore a very high-heeled bronze kid slipper and a pair of her smartest crutches — the type known as the "bow" pattern. This high heel caused her to walk with the shortest of steps; and as the streets were rather hilly, she had to practically lift herself up at each step. I well remember the sensation she caused when we went into a fashionable restaurant for dinner, and then into the pictures. Absolutely everybody stared at her.
These crutches are rather a trouble at times to stow in the car, but I devised a system to rope buckets in the car roof in which to sling them when we moved.
At this time, too, she rather overdid her walks on the peg-leg, and made her stump sore, as all this time it had been shrinking a little and the corset was beginning to get a shade too large, and one afternoon we went so far that it was beyond her powers to walk all the way back, so that I had to find a way to carry her and it is very tiring to carry a well-built girl in the conventional way in the arms, and we found that a pick-a-back was uncomfortable for both of us, so that on the lonely roads the only sensible thing to do for her was to sit astride on my shoulders, and I was able to carry her for quite a distance without a rest; and if somebody else did come along, well, she just got down until they had gone out of sight.
All good things come to an end some time, and the time came for me to rejoin the ship and get to work again. After several years I found that it was no fun for either of us to be separated for such long periods, and I found a shore billet and have now swallowed the anchor for ever. — Actually it was after my third year at sea that I settled down, and after a short holiday we set up house for ourselves.
I was then that I found out who the "interesting friends" were that Hazel had told me of so often, and whom I had never met. It must have been a case of "Like calling to like", as they were all in some way crippled.
I suppose in the last six years we have entertained in our house and have got to know intimately fifteen girls who were in some way not normally formed. The majority, of course, are one-legged, but the others include a one-armed girl, a girl with a withered arm — withered so much that the hand and arm are no bigger than a five-year-old child's; a blind girl who is the constant companion of the one-armed girl (and to look at her, one would never realise that she was blind — she has the widest and brownest eyes I have ever seen). This girl is able to do all her housework, and gets about the house with a sureness that must be seen to be believed. Another girl has been dumb, as a result of an accident since the age of 12, and is as cheerful as a cricket, and carries on her conversations with us by means of signs and notes.
Another has a club foot which compels her to wear a circular boot, and there are two who are so short legged (one on the right leg, the other on the left), that they have to wear high extensions of some sort constantly, and even then they have each a variety of ways of changing their footwear.
There is, of course, the built-up sole to the boot and shoe (they each have shoes and boots with this device), and also the iron or steel extension, but to enable them to wear a smart shoe on both feet they have each got a sort of sloping block on which the shoe is fixed in such a way that the block is quite thin at the toe (not more than two inches) and 5 inches or so at the heel — this is 5 inches not including the height of the heel of the shoe.
I must say that it is a very smart way of overcoming the disability, but it makes them limp rather a lot. It is also strange that one of the girls wears a peg-leg, and she has her right leg off just below the knee, and wears a circular arrangement which is jointed and hardly hampers her walking at all.
Three of these girls were married and several were engaged, but the two who were crippled by the loss of an arm, and the withered arm, respectively, say they never hope to be married, as apparently the loss of an arm is considered to be more of a handicap than the loss of a leg.
Hazel has found that she can buy her shoes singly, so that she never has the sight of a spare shoe to remind her of the times that used to be, even if she wanted to (and she has often told me that she likes being one— legged, as it secures for her so many things that she never has as biped). She has even bought a single Wellington boot.
There is one little alteration to the usual peg-leg and crutch end that other one-legged readers may find useful, and which became necessary as the result of a little trouble we met on our camping tour.
All our readers will be familiar with the appearance of the ground end of a crutch or a peg-leg — a small round rubber foot which is designed to lessen the noise as the foot meets the ground.
Well, this small end acts admirably on hard ground, but on an early morning stroll across a field Hazel found that it was not successful along the edge of a brook. I was some way in front and heard her call for help, and on returning found that she had put her wooden leg in a soft patch of mud and she has sunk to the full extent of the leg; and the more she struggled to get out, the more did she sink.
This needed a little thought, and I eventually got over the trouble by fitting a pad to the end of the leg and padding the under side with felt. This pad is about 3 inches across, and prevents the end of the leg sinking in the soft soil. I have also fitted one of her crutches with the device, as we found that Hazel's bad sight made it difficult for her to pick her way in the dark, and the big pad prevents the crutch end from lodging in small ruts, etc.
Even this device gave us some cause for embarrassment on one occasion. We had been walking along the beach in one seaside town near where we camped one night, and on leaving the beach for the promenade we were amazed to hear a dull thump, followed by a tap each time Hazel took a step.
On looking down, I found that the sand had cut the pad away from her leg, with the result that the bare wooden end of her leg was meeting the ground.
Needless to say that there were crowds of people about, and not a conveyance of any sort, and we had nothing with which to pad the end with. So all the way home Hazel was doing her best to put her timber toe down as lightly as possible, with not much success.
It was funny afterwards to think of, but can you imagine the way we felt at the time? Hazel with a billowy summer frock, one smart shoe and stocking, and that unpadded wooden leg doing its best to shatter the pavement.
All these little things are recalled on occasion, and we often have a good laugh over the troubles and trials we had with our first attempts to make a wooden strut to do the work of a flesh-and-blood leg; but now she has got so used to the crutch and leg that it is second nature to her, and the leg is donned in the morning with the same ease that the normal woman dons her frock, and after all these years she has become so nimble on it that at times it is difficult to realise that in place of the two legs she once had there is now only one.
I see that you have published my first letter to you, and hope that you will be able to publish this one too, and also that it will lead to other one-legged ladies writing to you and giving us all the benefit of their experiences.
Yours truly, Timber Toe.


London Life November 27, 1937 p. 70
An Obsession Fulfilled
Dear Sir, — I have been a regular reader of "London Life" for a number of years, and trust you can find space for this my first letter.
I am 25 years of age, and one-legged, being minus my right leg. My parents died when I was 18, leaving me with an income which is more than adequate for my requirements. I own a nice house and a sports car, which I still drive, despite my one-leggedness, and have two servants.
In my young days I was always envious of one-legged girls, and as a small youngster I went to a Kindergarten school with a one-legged kiddy, and my favourite pastime was to hop for hours on one leg with one of her crutches.
As I grew up I began to notice that I was becoming obsessed towards one— leggedness, as time went on, this obsession became more and more intense, until I began to wish that I was really one-legged.
Yes, it was about five years ago I was smashed up in a motoring accident which ultimately resulted in the amputation of my right leg. But before the amputation the doctor asked my permission for this, which I gave quite willingly and gladly.
My leg was amputated above the knee, and now I am the happiest one-legged girl in the world, going through life quite expertly on my shapely leg, and a single crutch securely tucked under my right armpit.
What does really surprise me a little is the extraordinary amount of attraction my one leg has for my male friends, who always seems most interested in my one-legged appearance and figure.
I wear a 2 inch heel only on all my shoes, but really must plead guilty to a very expensive silk stocking on my one and only leg.
I can honestly say that I never had one tinge of regret since I gave my consent to my leg being amputated.
One Leg.


London Life December 4, 1937 p. 19
Making The Best Of It
Dear Sir, — I am glad to see our one-legged girl readers corresponding again. I noticed a remark recently about the young lady with the pin-leg, whose photo you kindly published some time ago. I can only tell your correspondent that Elsie told me that she had never used crutches, as the doctor said it would make her stump stronger and more useful if she had a wooden leg.
It was amputated when she was only 9 years old. She is now 17 and very active, and is not in the least shy or unhappy about it. As she said, "I mean to make the best of it!" She has lots of friends of her own age, and is to be seen constantly about.
I am sending another photo you might like to produce, as, in spite of all the correspondents who have written about pin-legs, this is the first photo I have seen.
I was interested in "Dawn", but think she is too morbid about her condition. She must be very charming, and I wish we could have her photo.
Yours truly, Lover Of Monopedes.


London Life December 18, 1937 p. 25
A Brave Crippled Girl Tells Her Story
Dear Sir, — I was pleased to read in a recent publication that some men feel specially chivalrous to crippled girls, but trust that I will be forgiven when I say that I don't agree with this view entirely.
Agreeing that the protective instinct of the male is much extended to we girls who have lost one of our limbs, and being glad of this, at the same time I feel it would be an impossibility to be "proud of my affliction", as the writer advises.
One thing the loss of my leg has taught me, and that is this: When Dame nature robs us of our limbs or faculties, she always gives us something to make up for it. In my case, I was in despair after my accident. Up till then I had been an extremely shy and reserved girl, with an inferiority complex. After my accident, some feeling of self-confidence and power in myself came to me. I knew that the fate which had decreed my injury would also decree that I would be given he necessary mental and physical stamina to overcome in some in measure. I have talked to many cripples in my time, and each one tells me the same thing that the very fact of being crippled makes them feel "set apart" from the rest of humanity. The cripple has a mental and moral stamina that many people in possession of an erect body and sturdy limbs lack.
I don't mean by this that we are to be envied. Far from it. I am merely trying to point out that our life does not become a vale of tears because we have something in us that tends us to steel us against adversity and trouble. When I first knew that I should go through life one-legged, I was in despair. Then I thought of all the wonderful works that had been carried out by cripples. Wonderful books that had been written, paintings done by armless men that obtained the admiration of the world despite the fact that the paint-brush had to be held in the mouth.
I thought of the intricate work done by the blind. The discoveries made by men thrown on a "human junk heap" after the War. And this helped me to carry on.
I can't say I am proud of my affliction, but I am proud to have that inner core of steel, in common with other cripples, which forbids me to despair. I have faith in myself, and in my destiny. When I see people quite helpless in bath-chairs, or in the complete darkness of utter blindness, I feel that my own affliction is nothing. At the same time, I take a pride in my appearance, because I think it is up to we cripples to make ourselves as attractive as possible in order that we claim our place in the sun.
The man who wrote the articles asks if cripples are shy with men. No, I am not. I know that any man will help me in my affliction, many strangers go quite out of their way to assist me on and off omnibuses. Not because they find my one-leggedness attractive, but because the very fact of being crippled brings out the best in humanity; and, despite what the cynics say, the majority of people would rather help than injure another.
Yours truly, Dawn.


London Life December 25, 1937 p. 59
Peg-Legs
Dear Sir, — I am writing on behalf of my wife, who wishes to thank the correspondents who have written to your paper in answer to her request for advice re a wooden peg-leg.
Acting on the advice of "Single High Heel" she consulted her doctor about it, who said that, provided she did not wear the leg for too lengthy a period for a start, there was no reason why she should not wear one.
We visited an artificial limb maker, and about a fortnight later the leg was delivered.
I can assure you that we had some fun that evening when my wife first put it on and tried to walk round the room without crutches, which was, of course, impossible for a start and she found that for the first few dates she had to use at least one crutch.
With patience and practice, however, she soon mastered the art of balance, and she finds it now a great boon whilst about her household duties, as of course her hands are free. It is remarkably light and comfortable to wear, she assures me, the only drawback being that when she sits down the leg sticks straight out, as her leg is amputated just above the knee. She can overcame this difficulty when sitting at the table, for instance by sitting on one side of the chair; her leg then rests on the floor. But when she sits in an easy chair, of course, the leg is straight out, which is rather awkward.
Whilst I fully appreciate the utility of my wife's peg-leg, I cannot say that I care to see it sticking below a pretty frock, and she usually takes it off before we settle down by the fire in the evening. She has never worn it out of doors yet.
I enclose a snap which shows the effect sitting.
Yours truly, Rex.

Location: Y-Gr Amputee-story Message: 28 Subject: London Life January 10, 1937 p. 30 From: "Oleg K" <kolga@...> Date: Dec 20, 1999
Location: Y-Gr Amputee-story1 Folder: Files > Devotee magazines > London Life Magazine File: London Life 1937 AS1.rtf (Parts 1-27, just letters, without stories) Posted by: zigadenus_apg98 Text: Kolga1's compilation of the "London Life" letters and articles from 1937 Date: Mar 1, 2008



User avatar

Topic Author
Bazil
Старожил
Posts: 514
Joined: 01 Sep 2017, 23:35
Reputation: 283
Sex: male
Has thanked: 698 times
Been thanked: 630 times
Russia

Re: Letters to the magazine "London Life" 1924-1941

Post: # 25332Unread post Bazil
10 Feb 2018, 10:28

1938

London Life January 29, 1938 pp. 28 — 31
The Psychology Of The "Limbless Complex"
Wallace Stort Replies to Critics
I have just returned after one of my periodical absences from England, and so am only now making myself au fait with all that has been happening in the pages of "London Life" during the past few months.
I am very glad to see that the "monopede" topic, of what I call the "limbless complex" — though this is, of course, only a loosely convenient and not an exact scientific description — is still of interest to many readers. In fact I think there have recently been more letters on the subject than have appeared during a like period in past years.
I see too, I have been coming in for a few strictures from one or two readers, notably "Blackpool Girl" and "Dawn". I am always more than glad to welcome the views of readers who are not ordinarily interested in the subject, but who have nevertheless done me the honour of reading my stories. "Blackpool Girl" is obviously one of these, and the fact that she was in anyway interested in the story "At the Moignon d'Or" is quite gratifying. But I don't think that either she or her beautiful one-legged friend, "Dawn", has, if I may say so, quite understood my point of view in my stories and articles.
From certain incidents in these stories, both ladies have deduced that I am in favour of the indiscriminate, public exhibition by a one-legged girl of her misfortune. But really, I must protest that I am in favour of nothing of the sort!
Obviously I am aware, as everybody else is, that to the ordinary, normally minded individual, a crippled girl, however pretty and attractive, is an object more of pity than admiration and that this ordinary individual does not like to see infirmity flaunted in his face.
What has been forgotten by my two charming critics is the fact, which I have stressed more than once before in these columns, that my stories and articles are primarily addressed to that particular band of readers interested in this particular type — just as letters on high heels, tight lacing, macking, etc, are primarily addressed to the particular devotees of these different fads.
These stories and articles of mine are, therefore, conceived each within its own very circumscribed orbit or compass. The incidents described are, for the most part, not those which normally could be enacted before an audience of the general public. The characters in the stories are specialised characters, most of whom accept, as a sort of article of faith, that abnormal attraction of limbless beauty. It is before an audience of such specialised people that the one-legged heroine of any one of my stories provocatively displays a single shapely leg. And — an important point, by the way — the interested readers of such a story are readers who accept the possible charm of limbless beauty.
I am afraid that what I say may read a bit abstrusely. But I hope I have conveyed what I mean — viz.: that I am not concerned as "Blackpool Girl" and "Dawn" imagine — with the public exhibition of infirmity.
"Dawn" appears to doubt the very existence of this curious and inexplicable complex. Her own experience has, curiously enough, as yet provided no evidence of the existence of such a point of view.
That is inexplicable and, if you like, even absurd, I admit, just as are the hundred and one other psychological conundrums to which the human mind is liable. How explain, for example, even the ordinary preferences of mankind in general? One man's liking for a tall blonde, and another's for a short brunette, etc. "There are as many different opinions as there are men," says the old Latin rag, and that pretty well sums up the matter. A mental attitude is, after all, an opinion or a preference pushed to extremes; and that is about all we can say about it by way of explanation.
But that this particular complex exists cannot possibly be controverted. Why should a letter-writer confess to such a point of view if he did not possess it? Why, in fact, should I have written articles on this topic if I were not similarly constituted?
All the prominent authorities on psychological complexes — Havelock Ellis, Kraft-Ebbing, Bloch, Reisinger, and others — deal with this subject along with hundreds of others that affect the human mind. Ellis and Kraft-Ebbing call it "the abnormal worship on the part of a lover of the absence or some feature in the beloved". Reisinger says it is "the abnormal condition which induces the lover not only to prefer the absence of a limb, in the beloved, but to find attractive the remains of the absent limb".
This latter aspect of the fetish is not always present, but it very frequently is. It is explained by the fact that the "lover" (to continue to use the term employed by the psychologists referred to) simply transfers to the remains of the limb that "worship" or appreciation which he would normally have for the absent limb, and naturally, and, in fact, logically enough, the degree of attraction depends upon the degree of shapeliness and neatness of the stump, as it is commonly called, just as it normally does upon the degree of attractiveness of a shapely leg.
I should like to add that those readers who advocate the wearing of pin— legs or artificial limbs by their monopede lady friends, have not got the complex very strongly. If an artificial leg is not worn, and the stump has had from the outset a certain shapeliness, then by care, massage, etc, it can be developed into a perfectly formed, beautifully shaped oval, and therefore, in its own way, as much a thing of beauty as any other beautiful part of a girl's body. Not at all "useful" from the surgeons point of view, but much more ornamental.
And the "lover" is in this case not the only admirer of the well-formed, well-cared-for oval, for its possessor, the one-legged girl herself, comes almost naturally to regard the remains of her lost leg as one of her outstanding charms, the natural complement in attraction of her single leg.
My charming critic "Dawn", will, I have no doubt, emphatically repudiate this last contention mine. One gathers from her letter that she does not regard her stump with favour and is always at pains to keep it hidden. But "Dawn" has also told us that she has not, as yet, had any experience of the attraction a charming monopede has for some people. Let her be quite certain that sooner or later she will, and then — unless she constitutionally dislikes or fears such attention, for not all monopedes succumb to this attraction, by the way — she may very easily find herself gradually changing her whole point of view.
Belief me, I am not merely theorising in this matter. I am writing from my own experience, as well as from a lifelong study of psychopathology. Older readers of "London Life" will, I have no doubt, remember as I revealed in my very first articles, twelve or so years ago, that I am myself married to a charming and attractive monopede, who has served as the model for most of the heroines of my stories ever since. In particular she was the original of the "bride" in the article, "The Confessions of a Monopede Bride", which first appeared in these columns about ten years ago. Most of the incidents I have recorded in that article happened as recorded, though I introduced little fictional embellishments to make an attractive story. For instance, I did not meet my wife as described in the article. Actually I met her at a Christmas party in the North of England; and though I was at once attracted to her, I had no idea she was one-legged until I asked her to dance! (And dance she did, with amazing spirit and agility.) I saw her home that night, and we were married within six months. The local paper, by the way, gave the ceremony a special "splash" (I think they call it) under the headings of:
Bride On Crutches.
Romantic Wedding of Beautiful One-legged Girl.
To return to the present day, however. My wife, who lost her right leg when only a child of seven, possesses, in addition to still a very pretty and slim figure and a slender shapely single leg, what I am happy to regard as a perfect stump...
Now there isn't any doubt at all, and she would tell you herself with the greatest cheerfulness, that she herself, during the course of years has come to regard this attractive and shapely little fragment of her loss with as much admiration and pleasure as I do myself. She devotes special care to it, massaging and exercising it so that it will not become soft and flabby and is as much concerned about its daintiness and shapeliness as any Society beauty about her face and figure.
She wouldn't dream of adopting a pin-leg or, for that matter, any type of artificial leg, even if I were in favour of such a course.
She also fully agrees with me that a pin-leg, particularly when worn in a street, is destructive to all charm, about as unsightly and awkward a method of support as could possibly have been devised. A critical reader may ask at this juncture in what way the use of a crutch or crutches is more attractive than a pin-leg. The question has some point, and I admit that crutches can be employed awkwardly and unattractively. Some unfortunate people do actually "hobble" on them, as the action is so often described in the newspapers. But they can also be used most attractively and, in the hands of an expert and long experienced user, they usually are.
It will interest readers to learn that all the "exhibition" women, from "arm-less beauties" to "limbless wonders" have "fan-mails", some of them very extensive, from admirers in every city in which they are on exhibition. Practically all the letters come from men and a good many of the epistles contain offers of marriage. The women delight in these letters and I have been shown batches of them with very great pride by their highly gratified recipients. By far the majority of these women, as I have stated more than once before in my articles, do not regard their lack of limbs as a misfortune. On the contrary, they are usually intensely vain of their uniquely formed bodies and enjoy exhibiting themselves to the awed, open— eyed gaze of their audiences.
It is, I suppose, a way nature has of compensating a human being for something withheld. Madame Gabrielle, perhaps the most famous of Showland's "half-ladies", a really beautiful woman with a perfectly formed body (and, by the way, an exceptionally small and neat waist) except that she is totally without legs, once stated, in an interview with an American newspaper, that: "Women really do not need legs. I have never had them and have never missed them. I can enjoy life and do everything I want to do without them. I any case they are not always particularly beautiful things, and I don't envy any woman the possession of them."
A very similar comment was made to myself by a pretty armless girl of 19 with whom I talked after her show in Coney Island seven or eight years ago.
"I don't know that I particularly hanker after arms," she said with a laugh, as she puffed a cigarette, held between her long, slender, beautifully kept toes. "After all, they would sure spoil my shoulders, wouldn't they?"
As her armless shoulders (always left quite bare by her scanty costumes during her shows) were perfectly modelled and smooth-skinned, without a trace of stump or blemish, and so in their way really beautiful, one could at least sympathise with her interesting if unusual point of view. It must be remembered, of course, that she had never possessed arms, could do everything she wanted with her toes, and was one of the highest salaried "artistes" of her class. Why, then, according to her philosophy, should she worry?
So one can understand why these women delight in the letters they received, which usually dilate upon their limbless charms, and particularly in the offers of marriage they frequently contain. But in most cases the women are already married, usually to some other performer of the show world, or to their managers, though now and then they marry outside.
Madame Gabrielle, mentioned above, has been married three times and is now a Baroness, having married a German nobleman. She is originally a German, though she has spent most of her show life in the States.
Miss Weeks, also a well known side show artiste in the States, billed as the "Legless Lady Acrobat", who can do anything on her hands and performs the most incredible acrobatics while thus supported, married the giant in one of her shows. It is a strange experience to see her being carried about her hotel, or the fair ground between shows, by her husband, as he is nearly 8 ft. in height and she is a tiny, dark, fragment of a woman, her legless, hipless body, narrowing gradually from the waist downwards. He carries her on the crook of his arm while she puts an arm about his neck, and the first time one encounters them one sees just the upper part of her with one long shapely arm hanging down, and wonders where on earth the rest of her is!
An even more fragmentary portion of a woman, probably the most amazing woman on show in the world today has been married many times and twice divorced! She so almost incredible as to appear as something out of a fantastic dream, for she is actually and literally only a living bust, being completely without arms, legs, or the lower part of the body.
Older readers will recall that I wrote an article about this remarkable woman some years ago in these columns, which Miss Stanton illustrated with a specially drawn portrait of the lady. Seeing her carried about her show booth, resting on a big, soft cushion placed on a ornamental tray, one is convinced that the whole thing is a clever and unfathomable illusion. But, as I know from personal experience, there isn't any illusion about it. She is actually a living woman and one of the greatest medical phenomena of all times. Actually the whole limbless trunk, with the exception of the handsome, well proportioned head and the magnificent and rounded breasts, is dwarfed and all the internal organs, which are quite complete and function perfectly, are also dwarfed. There are, however, only two ribs on each side instead of the usual number, and these are placed well up in the chest cavity in stead of, as in normal persons, below it. So that in spite of her having only the tiniest remnant of body, she is perfectly healthy and enjoys the life of the shows to the full.
This quite beautiful living bust is regularly shown loaded with glittering jewellery, ropes of pearls, flashing diamond-studded breast-plates, long heavy earrings, a towering jewelled head-dress, and little other clothing. And one gazes at it and comes away later, still almost convinced that the woman simply isn't true! But the fragment lives and breathes — and has sufficiently fascinated four or five men as to induce them to marry her in turn!
The show-world of limbless women has had its romances just like any other. A few years ago an Italian millionaire fell in love with a beautiful armless acrobat, known as "Christine", appearing with a circus visiting Rome, and married her a few weeks after seeing her performance. The wedding was a big, public affair, and a church full of Italian nobles saw the bridegroom place the ring on the toe of his armless bride, and later fashionable friends of the groom watched the pretty bride sign the register with the pen held between her toes.
"Irma", a well-known German legless side-show beauty, also married a very rich man a few years ago, and she was carried into church in full bridal attire by her father and carried out after the ceremony by her newly married husband.
The classic romance of the show-booth, however, occurred well over twenty years ago. At a fair in Geneva there was on show a very beautiful girl of 19 billed as "Princess Anetta". She was entirely armless and legless, and I remember the photograph that appeared in the newspapers recording the romance at the time, showing her resting on a pedestal in a tight-fitting tunic of glittering sequins, with perfectly modelled, armless shoulders, nicely rounded bust, and swelling shapely hips, where the trunk was rounded off cleanly without either legs or stumps being present.
To her booth there came every day a young student who had fallen madly in love with her. The show was scheduled to move on to another and distant fair at the end of the week, but the day before the departure, the young man appeared and, watching his opportunity, suddenly snatched the girl from her pedestal and ran at full speed with the beautiful armless and legless charmer in his arms.
Arrangements had apparently already been made by the youthful lover, for he raced to the local notary's office, were the pair were married, the bridegroom holding his limbless bride in his arms during the ceremony. A few minutes later the irate manager of the attraction arrived hot-foot, but the wedding was over. He was, of course, mollified by promises of adequate compensation to be made by the student's parents and the happy pair went off down the street together, amid the cheers of the crowd that had gathered, the blushing, limbless bride, still in her revealing show costume, lying happily in her newly wedded husband's arms.
The affair was widely reported at the time in the English and in the Continental papers, and I remember the clever and amusing headlines in one paper, which ran as follows:
Charms Without Arms, And Loveliness Without Legs.
Pretty Limbless Girl's Elopement and Marriage.
I have often wondered what happened to the pair afterwards, and how the romantic young husband settled down to the ordinary humdrum routine of life with a wife who was just a beautiful but helpless torso, entirely deficient in either arms and legs. I don't think the girl ever returned to the shows. At any rate, I have never heard of her since or encountered her in my own extensive tours through Showland. She will be only forty or so at the present time, and no doubt a very handsome woman still. One would like to think that one of the strangest runaway marriages in history turned out to success and that the husband is still a devoted admirer of the unique charms of his attractive armless and legless wife.
A more recent romantic marriage of a more or less similar kind had a very happy sequel a year later. Some years ago Phyllida Corkran, a dazzlingly beautiful New York "Follies" girl, was terribly injured in a motor crash, and eventually both her lovely legs were amputated close to the hips. After lingering between life and death, she recovered, and a rich and devoted admirer, who had got into touch with her after her amputation, persuaded her to marry him.
The happy sequel was a beautiful baby girl a year after marriage, and the photograph that appeared in the New York papers in connection with the news of the event showed her, a lovely blond, radiantly happy, seated in her wheeled chair with her baby in her arms. It did not need the caption, "Beautiful legless ex Follies girl now a happy mother", to reveal that she was quite without legs, for the short skirt of her thin silk frock quite obviously hung slack and empty over the edge of the chair seat.
Well, I appear to have digressed somewhat, though I hope not uninterestingly. But these experiences will help readers to realise that, in my case, the odds against my encountering an armless and one-legged girl — always supposing one existed — were not really so great as might have imagined. And, as I related in my article I wrote last year for these columns, and to which I referred above, such a girl did exist, and I actually met her and became temporarily friendly with her in Paris before the war.
She was, as I explained, a side-show exhibit at the famous annual fair at Neuilly, a Paris suburb, and she was a genuinely authentic example, being completely without arms from the shoulders and having only one leg, her right being absent and only a short, well-shaped stump remaining, about five or six inches from the hip. She was not, however, congenitally mono— limbed. She was born without arms, but had lost her right leg as the result of an accident in a lions' den.
And certainly I have to confess to the fascination there was for me in watching her wonderfully expert use of her toes, realising all the time, as I did, that she was quite armless and that she possessed only that single shapely leg and the foot and the neatly rounded stump at her right hip.
I did not miss how at intervals she smilingly rippled her prominent, well— shaped, bare, armless shoulders, obviously to draw the crowd's attention to them. Or with what perfect grace and ease she hopped about her show-booth, or stood perfectly poised on her single leg, while she exchange laughing banter with her audience.
I should be just as interested today, if I happened to come across another mono-limbed girl, and should like to talk to her and get her experiences of life, and perhaps use her as a model for a character in one of my stories, but as a matter of plain fact, I have never since encountered or even heard of another armless and one-legged girl or woman in or out of Showland. I should certainly be interested to hear of one, if such a girl is appearing anywhere in the world today.
And finally, I hope that Miss "Dawn" and "Blackpool Girl", and other critics as fair-minded as they both are, will at least have found this record of experiences and points of view interesting, even if they regard the whole thing as being "more than somewhat" excentric. I hope that "Dawn" will write again and that all the other readers interested in this topic will continue to express their views and tell of their experiences.


London Life January 29, 1938 p. 47
As You Were
Dear Sir. — Our small club is called the "As You Were" and originated many years ago amongst three of us who were close friends and all in one way or another short of a limb or limbs. None of us was actually sensitive of our shortcomings, but we were not of a nature to openly display our incomplete bodies as some of those in similar circumstances undoubtedly are.
We did our best in public to appear as normal "fully equipped" human beings and it was understood between us that this should always be so.
Naturally we had amongst our friends several girls minus limbs and it was from the desire of the three of us to appear natural and avoid being unusual that the idea of the club came. It is only of small membership, and the name "As You Were" conveys our effort to appear, all the times, in spite of our various lack of limbs, as normal. We strive to appear in public as we were before the loss of arms or legs — or both.
The club has no subscription and no fixed meeting place. We meet officially four times a year at one of the member's houses. Membership is confined to girls who have lost either an arm or a leg above either wrist or ankle, and who are in agreement with our ideals, which may be summed up in the phrase: "As you were with the aid of artificial limbs".
Our rules are few and simple: Members must at all the time (except in the privacy of their home) wear artificial limbs to disguise their loss and no member may attend a meeting without both arms and legs — real or false; no tucked-up sleeves or empty skirts are allowed.
Naturally peg-legs are forbidden, as they offer no disguise merely advertisement for missing legs. Nor are crutches permitted for the same reason.
In this instance we make allowance for a girl who has lost both legs. She is allowed to come on crutches and an artificial leg. Sticks for the legless members are the only aids allowed.
We continually vie with each other in making our artificial limbs do the work of real ones, but there is no doubt that those minus a leg fare much better in this than those minus an arm. This latter loss is far more difficult to overcome than the former.
Our badge, designed by an artistic member, is artificial limbs in the shape of a swastika, the thigh or shoulder part to the centre, and the four limbs comprised of two legs and two arms.
Amongst our members are completely legless and also completely armless girls, besides those who have lost one leg or one arm, and two members who have lost an arm and a leg.
We are not a melancholy lot of limbless girls, for we are young and always take great pride in our skill — achieved not without pain and great discomfort in some cases — to use our "dummy" legs and arms to the best advantage.
Yours truly,
Hon. Sec.


London Life January 29, 1938 p. 56
Open Letter To "Dawn"
Dear Sir. — With your permission I should like to write this open letter to "Dawn".
Dear "Dawn", — your recent two letters have set me thinking, and I am of the opinion that you are a very sweet-natured cripple in spite of a lifelong lameness which might well have soured the outlook of many, had they lost a leg and had thus made it well-nigh impossible to dance and to swim and to take part in the activities the average girl longs for.
Your first letter, "Dawn", gave an indication of the kindly nature you possess, but you are too sensitive that you are the owner of only one leg.
To enable you to walk at all it is necessary that your crutches must be your constant companions; but don't think that your only companions need be your crutches, intriguing as they are. You state that you have a pretty face, and I do not doubt that your one remaining leg is a shapely one. — Now, "Dawn", keep your kindly view of others compared with your own crippled state, but add to it the intention of making the most of yourself.
You say you like clothes and jewellery and would like to wear an anklet.
If you wear one smart high-heeled shoe and a silk stocking on your only leg, I would advise you to do so and enhance its charm. It will not, I think, draw attention to the fact that you are a cripple, as your mother thinks it would, but rather it will show that a one-legged girl can look just as attractive as one who has two — in my humble opinion much more so.
So, "Dawn", take a leaf out of "One Leg's" book and get rid of your shyness and use a pair of slender crutches (do not have an artificial leg, for goodness sake!), and let the world see that a well-dressed and well-shod girl hopping along on her single leg and a pair of slender crutches is one who not only excites sympathy, but has a very definite attraction for many of us men. I wonder, "Dawn", if you will send a photo to the Editor for publication, like many others have done, and like "One Leg" will soon.
I would finish by saying that you have an asset, "Dawn", in being — I am sure you are — a delightful and charming single-legged cripple,
Yours truly,
A Mere Male


London Life February 4, 1991 p. 23
Only One Left
Dear Sir, — I am a crippled girl with only one leg, having lost my right leg last year in rather unusual circumstances. And as I have seen some letters in "London Life" from crippled girls, I thought your readers might be interested to hear from one who has only recently learned to get about on crutches.
I was walking along the street in a small country town when a cricket ball, thrown by a youngster, hit my ankle. I thought little of it, but when I reached home I found that a small open wound had been made, and evidently the dye of my stocking had got into it and poisoned it, and I had to go into a nursing home.
I was then told that I should have my foot off, and possibly lose my leg. This troubled me a lot, as I was accredited a very pretty girl, and my beautiful legs were the envy of many and a great joy to me.
After three operations, I was left minus my right leg, having undergone a very high amputation, so high that it was useless to even contemplate wearing an artificial limb.
I was only 20 at the time, and when I fully realised that it meant being crippled for life and condemned to get about on crutches without hope of ever wearing an artificial limb, I broke down completely.
Later on, however, I heard what troublesome things they are, and I was glad that I had been made so crippled as to make it impossible to wear one. I am afraid I worried a lot at the thought of not being able to wear a high— heeled shoe, as was my wont, but in time I have found that it is quite comfortable to wear a court shoe with a 3 inch heel on my one and only foot, and I am hoping that when I get more expert in the use of my crutches I shall be able to wear at least a 4 inch heel, which I used to do when I had two legs.
A curious change has recently come over me, for now that I am more accustomed to crutches and look upon them as my best friends, I can honestly say that I would not be the possessor of two legs again even if I had the chance.
I can fully appreciate the view of "One Leg", who wrote in your columns some t far more than I should have done if I had still two legs.
People are wonderfully kind, and help me quite a lot in the difficult circumstances a one-legged girl often finds herself in
My empty skirt and solitary high-heeled shoe seem to give my friends as much interest as they do to me, and I must say that my one and only silk clad limb is much more attractive in its single shapeliness than it seemed to be when it had a companion. I always use two crutches, as only one produces an ungainly gait.
If any of your one-legged girl readers will give me a few hints as to how to become really proficient in the use of crutches, I shall be grateful; for, content as I am to be a cripple, getting about and resting on my crutches all my life, I am still a novice, and such things as getting on a bus or navigating a stile are more than I can comfortably manage at present.
I have, too, found it very difficult to manipulate two crutches and my one leg during the recent slippery weather, for fear of falling. Perhaps also they can tell me if a 5 inch heel will be too high for my one foot, and in any case what they think is the highest heel a one-legged girl can have on her only shoe with any degree of safety to avoid falling and breaking her one remaining leg.
Yours truly,
Only One.


London Life February 19, 1938 p. 21
A Brave Cripple
Dear Sir, — I have admired several pictures in your wonderful paper, so I enclose a snap of myself that shows that I am not at all handicapped by the loss of a leg. I am an Austrian girl by birth, 23 years of age. I was amputated at the age of 20. In the hope it will interest some of your readers, I will tell you the story of my amputation.
At the age of ten I had an inflammation in my right knee. It heeled all right, only the doctors told me to spare the knee joint for fear of new complications. But I was always an enthusiastic swimmer, and I liked diving, springing in the water, and so on.
In 1933 I dived from some height. I made a false movement and fell in such a way that I hurt my knee. I felt a sharp pain and had to be helped out of the water.
For many weeks I went to work, but one day I could not go on any longer. My boss was of the same opinion, and so I got the sack.
The doctor sent me to hospital. They put me under X-rays and tried everything. I felt worse and worse. I prayed to God to save may life. Never in my life have I prayed so! My big brown eyes never left the Crucifix on the wall. The Almighty allowed me not to die, notwithstanding I had not always fulfilled my religious duties.
In the end they had to amputate my leg. When I was under narcosis I dreamed I was in a running train as a lady reporter, interviewing the professor who was operating on me. "Professor, you have a very interesting career... Yes, yes, you can cut through everything, make studies of everything... Yes, yes, professor, but is it not terrible that you can't help a young human being full of life and illusions?"
When I came to me I was not immediately clear about what had happened. (They had not told me beforehand that they were going to amputate my leg.) Still, by and by, I realised that my leg was gone.
My first reaction was black despair. Now I am mutilated, what can I do? Then I knew that the answer was: Going to live. Life is worth living, even with only one leg. After a long period of pain and suffering I made my first trials in going.
Men who visit their sisters, sweethearts and mothers in the hospital look at me. Am I inspiring disgust? Pity? No, I have not lost my attraction on the members of the other s*ex! They pity me like strong men pity a little sweet girl. Some try to make my acquaintance. One strong healthy fellow will propose.
By and by I found my trust in life. When I came out of hospital I made my promenades, visited theatres, and one day I put on my swim-suit and went to the swimming pool again. For a short time I was swimming as much as before.
Now I have as many admirers as when I walked on two legs. I almost forget that I am walking on crutches. But I could not believe that a man with two legs would go on loving me in marriage. They say all men are false!
Or am I wrong? Can I listen without distrust to sweet words? Is there somebody who will be true to me, who will not, in the long run, quench my warm, strong heart?
I have listened to one man. I am married now, and happy. But it does not yet last long. So I still ask myself if in the long run matters will not turn wrong.
But that belongs no more to the story of my amputation.
Dear Editor, I hope this letter is not too long. Would it interest you and some of your readers, then I will tell you later some more of my experiences as a one-legged girl, and send you some better snaps.
Yours truly,
Monopede Swimmer


London Life February 19, 1938 p. 23
"Dawn" Thanks Our Readers
Dear Sir, — I was pleased and flattered to see in the last double number of "London Life" the open letter addressed to me by a reader who was pleased to think me a "sweet-natured cripple".
Strangely enough, I can't take that as a personal compliment to myself alone, for after the accident which robbed me of one leg I attended a crippled school where half the treatment consisted in persuading cripples not to be bitter about the state.
I wonder if other lame readers have ever had to contend with the heart— breaking mockery and baiting that goes on? The people who aren't crippled seem to imagine that we who are have no finer feelings and, among the lower classes, the life as a cripple is hard indeed, due to nothing more than the mockery and shameless baiting of them by young louts and women who ought to know better. It was to treat this mockery as the worthless thing it really was that our crippled school had its psychology class.
There are always sadistic people whose one ambition is to torment those in a weaker position than themselves. The cripple comes in for a lot of this baiting, and is prevented from punishing the preparatory by the crippled state. To make up for all this, we cripples are taught three things.
First, to make the best of ourselves. Hence, by this, I can answer that reader who begs me not to forget that I am feminine, and to dress daintily. Of course I don't forget that. The accident which robbed me of my leg didn't rob me of my woman's vanity, my dear fellow reader! I use a slender steel crutch, wear a high heeled shoe on my perfect leg, and keep up to the mark as far as fashion and make-up are concerned. In fact, because I am always conscious of my crippled state, I go a step further and try to make up in personal daintiness for the lack of my missing leg.
If my last letter gave a hint that I disapproved of cripples making the best of themselves, I conveyed a wrong impression. What I really meant (and am sure what I said) was that some crippled girls mistook kindness and consideration of their crippled state for a kind of perverse admiration for it. I don't do that. I know that in my attractiveness I am going to fall for short of the girl with two whole legs; and moreover, I don't see the sense of making a kind of fetish out of my crippled state (which so many cripples do for sheer perversity and naughtiness).
Therefore I don't wear ultra-short skirts or too provocative clothes.
The second thing I was taught at the crippled school was to be a creator. It was pointed out to us that very few of us would ever marry. Therefore we must turn our creative efforts to something else — either write, paint, make flowers, dresses, or any other artistic occupation. I happen to be a dress designer, and my work brings me in contact with a lot of people I should otherwise never meet. Incidentally, clothes designing for cripples is one of the most interesting tasks.
The third thing school taught me was to keep an open mind, not get bitter, and to excuse others who had no handicaps. That is why
I sign myself as a happy reader, though crippled.
Yours truly,
Dawn


London Life February 26, 1938 p. 27
A Tragic Birthday Present
Dear Sir, — Although I have been a reader of "London Life" for several years, I have only just recently become a one-legged one, having had my right leg amputated four months ago, on my twenty-fifth birthday. Rather a nice present, don't you think? I am getting about nicely on a pair of black ebony elbow crutches, and really I must say that the sensation of being one-legged is rather extraordinary, but quite indescribable, as I find that I am continually attempting to put to the ground a foot I no longer possess.
I am accounted rather pretty, and have a good full figure, and my one and only leg is quite shapely, so that I am not at all surprised at the obvious attention my one-legged appearance gets from the opposite s*ex.
I have only been getting about in public for six weeks, but I will write again and relate any experiences I may have; but as yet I can hardly realise that I am destined to hop one-legged all the rest of my days, as my one-legged condition has changed the whole tenor of my life as regards sports, dancing, etc and perturbed as to whether I shall ever forget my two-legged days which have only so recently terminated, and be able to adapt myself to my present one-legged condition.
I do sincerely hope, therefore, that experienced one-legged girl readers will take a little compassion upon me and give me any advice they can, particularly "One Leg" and "Single High Heel". By the way, I wonder which leg she has amputated. I will now close my first letter with just a tinge of regret at my loss.
Yours truly,
One-Legged Novice


London Life March 5, 1938 p. 5
Four Legs Among Four
Dear Sir, — I have been a regular reader of "London Life" for about two years, having been introduced to your paper by another one-legged girl whom I met on holiday.
I am twenty two years of age, and am a congenital one-legged girl, having been born with my left leg, and in substitution for my right leg I have a full length, useless thigh, finishing in a round end, upon which I always wear a very tight fitting elastic sock lined with silk.
I am unable to say whether I should prefer two legs, as I have been one— legged all my life; but I must say that men seem very much attracted by my one-legged appearance, and I am quite as agile on my one leg as the ordinary two-legged girl is, being able to stand and keep a perfect balance for any length of time, and can hop about without any effort on my single leg without any risk of falling and injuring myself.
I have always used a single crutch which, needless to say, I can manipulate quite easily and expertly under my right armpit, even when I have both hands full.
I saw a photo in "London Life" of a one-legged girl with her bicycle, so thought I would write, as I have ridden a cycle for about twelve years and always bike down to my fathers business, where I am in the office, and I have never kept a crutch there, but simply hop about the place on my one and only leg.
I went to a party during the Xmas holidays, and was introduced to a most charming one-legged man, much older than myself, and naturally we soon got quite pally, talking about our mutual one-leggedness. He told me that he was 44 and was 30 years old when he had his left leg amputated above the knee, and has always used a single crutch. He is quite independent, and has a beautiful car, which he drives himself.
He drove me home after the party, and I have been out with him a lot to dinners and theatres, and we are to be married shortly. He pulls my one and only leg about my rather plump figure and my vivid red hair; but he is a dear, and I love him ever so much. I am having my one-legged friend, Maureen, as my only bridesmaid, and Bill (my fiancй) hopes to be attended by a dear old friend of his who, strangely enough, is also one-legged; so that bride, bridegroom, bridesmaid and the best man will only have four legs between them. I wonder whether this can be beaten for a one-legged wedding record.
Yours truly
One-Legged Margaret


London Life March 26, 1938 P. 74
Advice For The One-Legged
Dear Sir, — I wish to thank your correspondent of February 26, who signs herself "one-Legged Novice", and who asks for advice in her new state.
In the first place, I think she is making a mistake in using elbow crutches to begin walking on, before she has learned the art of balance; for although this type of crutch is light and attractive to use, it is certainly more difficult to manipulate. My first advice is to obtain a pair of armpit crutches. These, of course, can be obtained of very light construction, finished in black if she prefers, the great point being to get the best of the crutch in the correct position.
This is the best test: Stand up straight, place the crutch under the armpit, and stretch the arm straight down, at the same time clenching the fist. Where the knuckles touch the crutch is the correct position for the hand grip. If this is done, she will find that, when walking, the weight of the body is carried evenly distributed between the wrists and the armpit, whereas when the grip is too high the whole body weight is thrown onto the shoulders, which can be very tiring and will throw the shoulders out of shape. In the case of the elbow crutch, of course, practically the whole weight is carried on the wrists: And that is why I am afraid that your correspondent will find them very tiring to walk any distance.
My second advice is to do some daily physical jerks. This may sound queer advice to a monopede, but when one remembers that one leg has do to the work of two, one realises that that leg must be kept pretty fit.
Stand facing the bed, and take a firm grip of the bed-rail, or anything firm, and lower yourself to a crouching position very slowly up and down twenty-five times morning and night. Also sit in a chair and stretch the right leg out, and twirl the foot first in a clockwise and then opposite direction. This will soon strength the leg and foot muscles, and you will be able to get about on your one leg for hours without being fatigued. It will take quite a long time before you can break yourself of the habit of putting your missing foot to the ground, especially after you have been sitting for a long time. It seems quite natural to get up and walk. I had the same experience myself at first — and a few tumbles, too, but that will pass after a while.
Another good tip is to learn to hop about the house as much as possible, wearing preferably a rubber-soled tennis shoe to prevent slipping, as this will also strengthen the leg, and you will soon be able to get about the house without using your crutches. It is also advisable to learn to walk with a single crutch, as you will then have one hand free; but I do not advice this practice for long distances, as it tends to push one's shoulder up hill.
Yours truly,
Single High Heel


London Life April 2, 1938 p. 20
A Query
Dear Sir, — A question I would like to ask your readers who happen to possess a short leg is: Why do some people use a high sole of cork to extend the height of a boot or shoe, and others use iron extensions? Which is the more comfortable to use?
Yours truly,
Magpie


London Life April 9, 1938 p. 25
A Comforting Word
Dear Sir, — I have been reading a letter in "London Life" referring to a young girl like myself, and signed by "Dawn".
I feel very sorry that she is missing the one great thing in her life to make her happy.
I am 21 years of age, and I can swim, dance and ride a bicycle, and I do not let the loss of my leg worry me. I wear all kinds of dresses, and when out cycling I wear trousers.
I do not think that this young lady's leg has anything to do with her not getting a lover. I used to think that it was the same way with me, but now I am engaged to one who considers me in every way and is very understanding.
I am sure that if "Dawn" looks on the bright side and does not worry, someone will come along to win her.
I wish, if possible, you could let me have the young lady's address, so that I can write and comfort her.
I am very fond of jewellery, and have very many friends.
Yours truly,
Bea


London Life April 23, 1938 pp. 22 — 23
Facing The Facts
Dear sir, — I read with great interest the letter from a correspondent who signs himself "The Seeker", in your last double number, and I enjoyed the letter; but it left me in the dark really.
I happen to be limbless owing to losing both my arms in a railway accident; but were I to say that any man runs after me for admiration of this disability, I should not be telling the truth.
I have found to my bitter sorrow, that it puts off many young men. For instance, the other night I went to a dance and wore, over my blue crepe dress, an accordion-pleated waist-length cape to hide my armlessness. My shoes were pencil-heeled gilt ones, and my stockings sheer cobweb hose.
I sat down quietly to watch the dancers, and noted that a very handsome man was eyeing me with pleasure. I was very interested in him, and it was obvious that he returned my interest, for he gradually moved nearer to me.
Then he asked me for a waltz. Reluctantly I explained my disability, and though he was polite enough to conceal his shock by saying, "Never mind, we'll dance just the same — your swinging cape will cover up your lack of arms."
I knew that he was merely being gentlemanly. We danced the waltz and he guided me, because he placed one arm behind my shoulders, and the other on my waist. It didn't look bad, as the cape hid it.
We danced very well together, but he didn't ask me for another! Proof, I think, that his courtesy to me arose from pity and not from admiration. Had I possessed both arms, I know that he was sufficiently attracted to me to have danced the whole evening with me; and who knows what it might have led to?
As it was, I was left with regrets, and he with a slight sense of embarrassment. Men like their women to be healthy and whole, not broken dolls.
There is something in the physiology in us ultra sensitive cripples to the thoughts and reactions of others. We have to take a back seat because we are not whole; and whether or not men realise it, the thought in their mind in seeing a pretty woman revolves around marriage and eventual motherhood.
What man in his senses would want to marry an armless girl? She must be dependent upon servants for every move, to pick up a book, to tune in the radio. Therefore as a sufferer, I am afraid that I can't agree with some readers' ideas.
I don't hug to myself the delusion that some man is going to prefer me to the next girl just because I am limbless. That would be folly. All I can hope for is that some day I might meet a man who would love me sufficiently to put up with a crock like me for the sake of mental companionship.
Even then he would have to be a rich man. No poor man could afford a wife who was helpless. Poor men need mates who will work side by side with them — and rich men can take their pick of the world's beauties; so what chance is there for someone like me? My only hope is that some day I might be fitted with artificial arms that enable me to do something, and not just look all right.
Like most cripples I look forward to the day when science can give us what Fate took away, but at the present there is nothing for me to do but to put up with my lot as it is.
Admitting that there are men who admire a touch of the bizarre in women, I contend that this bizarreness is compatible with loving a limbless cripple. A healthy normal woman, with a touch of the bizarre in her make-up can be attractive, but not one like me. Suppose I went for sleeveless frocks that exposed my scars. Wouldn't I look revolting instead of attractive?
As it is, all my clothes are designed to hide my deficiencies; and that, I think, is the wisest plan. I dress in quiet colours, so as not to draw attention to myself; and though I am always neat and dainty, I dare not risk a bizarre gown, dangling earrings, or any ornament whatever that may draw upon me first interested, and then commiserating glances.
I know the cost in pain that a woman can feel when she sees the first look of admiration in a man's eyes change to disappointment, pity and that slight touch of revulsion that even a charming manner can't keep from their eyes. When a woman sees this, she knows the depths of hell, and suffers terribly, although her lips might keep a set smile on them!
Therefore I say to all crippled girls, "Don't be led away by the kind— hearted men who profess to admire the limbless state. They are only trying to bolster up your pride and be a little kind".
It is against all a man's natural instinct to prefer the imperfect when the perfect is to his hand for the asking.
Men, unlike women, see only the surface. A woman in love sees beneath it; but with a man, appearances count an awful lot, and he wants to exhibit his mate with pride, not with excuses.
Trusting that this letter will be of interest to you.
Yours truly,
Olga



User avatar

Topic Author
Bazil
Старожил
Posts: 514
Joined: 01 Sep 2017, 23:35
Reputation: 283
Sex: male
Has thanked: 698 times
Been thanked: 630 times
Russia

Re: Letters to the magazine "London Life" 1924-1941

Post: # 25333Unread post Bazil
10 Feb 2018, 10:29

London Life April 30, 1938 pp. 58 — 59
Happy, Though Marred
Dear Sir, — After three weeks of waiting to see another issue of "London Life", I was very happy to find new interest and more letters in and from lady monopedes.
The long letter from "Monoarm" was most interesting to me, as I have a friend who lost her arm when she was five years of age. While playing about with other children, she came to watch her father at work near a running chain-belt in some sort of machinery. One of her playmates bumped against her and her arm was caught in the belt and so badly mangled that it was amputated at the shoulder. As she grew up she easily learned to do without her right arm and, being very attractive and possessing a good voice, she enjoyed many friends.
She married, and became the mother of two lovely daughters, and in spite of her handicap has managed to live a normal, happy life. She appeared in public either in long— or short-sleeved gowns. If the latter, she pinned a handkerchief inside the opening. She told me once that when she was young, the loss of the arm seemed to affect her sense of balance, and a number of times she fell against the shoulder. A small piece of sharp bone had been left, but as she grew older this became less pointed and didn't cause so much trouble.
She was at all times perfectly at ease, and I cannot remember seeing her embarrassed because of her empty sleeve.
At present she is so far from where I am located that it would take some time to get in touch with her, or I most certainly I would get a picture to send in for publication.
Yours truly,
Still Interested


London Life April 30, 1938 p. 61
Peg-Legs In France
Dear Sir, — I have been to the South of France for several weeks, and took with me my sports car, and, needless to say, I had a wonderful time.
"S. H. H." in a letter desired to know how I manage to drive my car. Of course I drove before having my leg amputated. Now I have a hand throttle fitted instead of the usual foot throttle, and a clutch works in conjunction with the handbrake, and the foot brake I naturally control with the foot of my one and only leg. I do hope she will be able to manage to drive, and perhaps she will let us know.
I met several one-legged women in France. One night there was a wonderfully beautiful woman with a figure like a Venus, but with only one leg. For her missing leg she wore the slenderest peg-leg I have ever seen. She was dressed in a most vivid scarlet backless evening gown, knee-length, and her peg-leg was the same colour. You can imagine what she looked like, with a scarlet stocking and shoe, and vivid red hair. She seemed quite oblivious of her one-leggedness as she went stumping along with her escort, smoking and laughing. I was told that she was well known as "Jambe de bois Celeste" (Wooden legged Celeste). Peg-legs seem quite popular amongst one— legged women in France.
The majority of the Frenchmen whom I met were most charming, and I could not have had a more gorgeous time. I had plenty of sea bathing. No one appeared to take undue notice of my one-leggedness when in my bathing costume. Needless to say, I was very glad of this, because it gave me encouragement to bathe and sun myself quite oblivious to any missing leg.
I thought I was well initiated in the art of make up, but, believe me, the French have taught me a lot. I have my platinum hair cut in the latest Paris style with a flat fringe on forehead and ears. My eyebrows are plucked and replaced with a thin tattooed line, and I also use mascara. This with a tinge of rouge and a very brilliant vermilion lipstick, and my knee-length dresses fully complete what I am told by my male friends a very prepossessing and shapely one-legged figure. I am sure they must be right, for no matter where I go I always become a cynosure of all eyes as I hop on my single crutch. Needless to say, such attraction makes me inordinately proud.
I brought back from Paris six lovely slender crutches, black, blue, brown, and grey, for day use, and a red and green for evening wear. These crutches are extraordinarily slender and fitted with detachable armrests, which are made of a composition very flexible and pliable of the same colour and shaped to fit with wonderful comfort in the hollow of the armpit. They are hollow with three small springs inside which give in to the pressure of my shoulder when I am hopping along, and also being exceedingly yielding to my flesh when I am wearing a sleeveless dress. Needless to say, they were very expensive, but I must grin and bear that for the extra comfort and smartness.
I broke my journey on the way back and stayed in Paris for a week, and one evening, when I was dining alone at a table there came into the dining room a girl using a single crutch, having lost her left foot, it being amputated at the ankle. It was quite fascinating to watch her footless leg gently swaying with her movements as she hopped on her crutch.
As I caught her eye, I naturally smiled at her, and she hopped to my table and asked if she might share it. Of course I was delighted, but made up my mind not to say anything about my being one-legged, but to give her a surprise.
She told me her foot had been amputated twelve months earlier after an accident. When we had finished coffee, I signalled the waiter, and you can imagine the surprise on her face when he came over with my crutch. I stood up on my one and only leg, and he adjusted my crutch under my right arm, and as I hopped round to her side and slightly pulled up my evening dress, said, "what do you think of my one leg?"
I read with great interest the letter from "One-legged Novice" and hope that she will look on her one-leggedness in the right spirit. If she does as I am doing, having a good time, she will never worry about being one— legged.
I really enjoyed "One-legged Margaret's" letter. What a wedding — four people without legs! Please write again, Margaret, and say how your wedding went off.
What has happened to "Rex", and all the other one-legged brigade lately? I hope they will write as they used to.
Apologising for my rather lengthy letter, but I can still sign myself in all happiness,
Yours truly,
One Leg


London Life July 2, 1938
Making The Best Of It
Dear Sir, — Although I have been a reader of "London Life" for several years, this is my first letter to your columns, so I feel I must really commence by wishing you the continued success which I am sure your paper really deserves, catering as it does for all classes of readers.
I am a one-legged girl, 24 years of age, but as you will learn from this letter, I am no stranger to one-leggedness. When I was eight years of age I got my right foot very badly crushed, which necessitated its amputation just above the ankle. After my foot had been amputated I got about on a single crutch and very soon became a well-known figure.
Needless to say, the loss of my foot at that age did not deter me from entering in all youngster's games — in fact I was a regular tomboy, and earned for myself the nickname "Stumpy".
Of course I had quite a lot of falls and broke my footless leg on two occasions, and then when I was 19 during some very slippery winter weather I had rather a bad fall and broke my leg again. This time the doctor could not get the bone to knit, and told me it would be necessary to amputate my leg.
As there seemed no other way in which I could get about again I agreed to the amputation, but suggested that in order to avoid any more breaks that my leg be amputated above the knee.
I went into a nursing home for the amputation and came out a few weeks later minus my footless leg.
I really must say that I prefer my present one-legged condition to the long, footless leg which I previously had. I have been asked scores of times by people why I do not wear my artificial leg, but I tell them that I much prefer the natural freedom to having an artificial contraption, and after my slender crutch have become a secondary part of my anatomy during the last sixteen years of my life.
I am employed by a firm which necessitates my travelling all over the country, and I can honestly say that I have never found my one-legged condition any bar to my getting about in the discharge of my duties. In fact I seem to get on better than many colleagues who have both legs. Everyone is so nice and sympathetic with me, although I really prefer to have just one leg.
I use a car and drive on average about 300 miles a week. Stairs are no difficulty to me. I hop up them on my one leg quite easily, helped, of course, by my crutch.
I think I can honestly say that being one-legged has its compensations in many ways. For instance, I am certain I get a great deal more attention than I should do if I had two legs, and I have had several offers of marriage; but I have an interest in my firm and a little private money, so I preferred to remain a one-legged spinster.
I used to find that my crutch was inclined to rub against my clothes and thus wear them out rather quickly, as I hopped along. But I discovered that by having my dresses and costumes made to fit me rather tight, my crutch does not rub against them nearly so much. Of course it is quite impossible to avoid a certain amount of friction owing to the unavoidable hop a one— legged person always gets into.
I must, however, admit that the extra tightness of my clothes has a tendency to make my one-leggedness more pronounced, but I am quite oblivious to this, as I am so accustomed to having only one leg.
Trusting that I have not taken up too much of your valuable space and if you would care to publish it I will send you a photo I had taken in my garden quite recently standing with my crutch.
Yours truly,
Glad To Be So


London Life September 10, 1938 p. 20
No Longer A Novice
Dear Sir, — First of all, hearty congratulations on your wonderful Summer annual. I was sorry there were no letters from one-legged girl readers, but I am looking forward to Wallace Stort's story.
Some time ago I wrote to you under the name "One-legged Novice", and promised to send you some of my experiences, so here are a few of them.
It is now eight months since I became a one-legged girl, my right leg being amputated just above my knee, but I am glad to say that the souvenir of my amputation is now quite hard and firm, but I shall never wear an artificial leg, as I prefer my one-legged appearance too well.
I discarded my elbow crutches some time ago, and was measured for an armpit pair, but instead of having them finished as a pair, I had one in navy blue and one in gray, and now I hop one-legged with just one crutch cuddled under my right armpit, with my rather short and tight-fitting frock clinging to the shapely rounded end of the remnant of my amputated leg, causing passers-by to stare at my rather pronounced one-legged appearance.
I have now got quite accustomed to having only one leg, and really I must say that there is something indescribably fascinating in being a one-legged girl — at any rate, I have found it so. But I cannot yet break myself of the habit of trying to put to the ground my amputated leg, more especially after I have been sitting down for any length of time; but I am told that this is quite common in a one-legged person for a long time after the leg has been amputated, owing to the nerves which have to be left in the remaining stump.
After my amputation (at the age of 25) I thought it meant the end of things, but I soon discovered that it was the beginning, though rather an intriguing one, and now I am really and honestly proud of being one-legged, and love to do all sorts of things to draw attention to the fact that I am a one-legged girl with, as I am told, a figure of which many girls would be envious, and which is greatly enhanced by my one-legged incompleteness.
I have just come back from a camping holiday with three other girls from the office where I am a typist, and during this period I wore shorts, which I strongly recommend to any other one-legged girl for a holiday of this sort.
I was away from he office for five months after my amputation, but I have been back three months now, and the girls like to see me hop one-legged about the office, and sometimes they hide my crutch to see me hop without any aid at all.
One day the governor's son came into our room (a charming fellow named Dick), and when he saw that I was one-legged he came and had quite a long chat with me, and now I share his office and do all his work for him.
One day when we were having a cup of tea he asked me how I liked being one— legged, and I told him quite truthfully that I preferred having only one leg, and then he told me how I fascinated him by hopping about his room on my single leg without a crutch, and heaps of my men friends have told me the same thing.
I can quite understand "One Leg" and her obsession towards one-leggedness, but although I never have had this obsession I am glad to be a one-legged girl.
I make the most of my vivid red hair, good looks, and figure, as I have been going out with Dick for some time now, motoring and to theatres, dinners, etc. He calls me his one-legged Venus.
There is only one thing I really miss, and that is dancing, so one night Dick and I and a few friends went to a club dance and I had quite a few dances (without my crutch, of course), just holding my partner tightly round the waist for support, and I was told that I did quite well. That night Dick and I got engaged.
We had a lovely day up-river last week in Dick's punt, and when we came to an isolated backwater with no one about Dick produced two bathing suits and said we would have a swim.
I naturally did not want to be too sensitive of my missing leg, but Dick insisted and made me give in. We had a most delightful swim (the first since I have been one-legged). It was rather strange at first with only one leg, but I got soon used to that. I must say that it was simply gorgeous for me as a one-legged girl to be able to do this, as I used to do a lot of diving and swimming before my leg was amputated.
Dick and I are getting married quite soon, and I am sure I shall be happy because when he proposed to me he told me he loved me not only because I am a really good-looking and attractive girl, but also because of the irresistible charm my one and only leg had for him, so that you see being one-legged has its compensations — at any rate, it has for me. We are going to Paris for our honeymoon, and I know we shall have a wonderful time in spite of my one leg.
Wishing "London Life" the continued success it so richly deserves, and in passing I might say I have read it for eight years, and I thank Mr. Wallace Stort for the way he has shown in the past how a one-legged girl can get pleasure in life instead of looking adversely on things in general after the amputation of a leg.
I am no longer a "One-legged Novice", but
Yours truly,
Content As I Am


London Life September 24, 1938 pp. 28 — 34, 45
The Clue Of The Purple Heart /1
(See story-files!...)


London Life October 1, 1938 p. 20 -21
Wallace Stort Tells His Own Household Story
Only three out of eight.
Dear Sir, — No doubt you saw in a recent daily paper the photograph of, with accompanying interviews with, the two one-legged girls who share a pair of shoes. The photograph showed the two girls taking tea in the garden of one of them, shortly after the pair of shoes was bought; and as they are seated on deck chairs, their shapely single legs are both well and attractively displayed. They are two friends and each lost a limb ten years ago, and have remained friends and shared the same pair of shoes ever since.
There are several very interesting points for "monopede lovers" in the case. The fact that two girlfriends should each have a lost a limb — one the left, and one the right — in different accidents, is one. The fact that they are able to share the same pairs of shoes is another. Then, as each confesses, though each possesses an artificial leg, they never wear them, preferring to use crutches instead.
This is by no means an uncommon thing, as I know from experience. Apart from the example of my own wife, herself one-legged since childhood, I know several pretty one-legged girls who prefer crutches, simply because they do not like the awkward halting gate such a leg imparts to the walk, and prefer the easy swing of crutches and the neat appearance of the single leg below the frock.
Another interesting point is that Mrs. Perry said that she was married after the amputation of her leg. Yet another instance of a man finding a one-legged girl attractive enough to marry her!
As for the problem of shoes and slippers, this, of course, faces all one— legged people who do not wear artificial legs. My wife goes to a bespoke bootmaker who specialises in footwear for one-legged folks, and has her single shoes and slippers specially made for her. But, of course, this is a costly business, and not everybody can afford the prices. Her man charges at least two and a half guineas for a single hand-made shoe, and for special evening sandals and slippers anything up to four or five guineas.
He has, by the way, many interesting tales to tell of his clients, who number a great many more than ordinary people would imagine, and all from a well-to-do class. He has a princess on his books; an American girl who married a Russian; several titled ladies; a well known German soprano who wears an artificial leg only for her concerts, and goes back to crutches for everyday wear.
He, too, has two-legged lady clients and several men clients who share the same pairs of shoes. None of these, however, were friends in the first instance, though they may be now. The boot maker discovered that they needed the same size in shoes, and brought them together.
One very interesting case which, by coincidence, resulted in the lady in question becoming a friend of ours makes an out-of-the-way story. I shall tell it from its beginning, though my wife met the lady later, as you will see.
A very pretty girl who has lost her right leg close to the hip came to him for shoes and slippers some years ago. After about a year she brought her fiancй along, a well-to-do young stock-broker. He was very interested in the fitting of the single shoes and slippers, and always came along for the ceremony.
Then one day he came along and informed the bootmaker that he would not be employing him any more. She was then convalescing after the amputation of her remaining leg, also close to the hip, the result of a car crash in which he had been slightly injured.
My wife now enters the story. She, in common with a large number of one— legged people, goes to an orthopaedic supply firm specialising in everything for the maimed, for her crutches, swim-suits, and the like, all of which are, of course, specially made for her.
She was sitting in the waiting room one day, when a young man entered carrying a beautiful blonde girl in his arms, who, after her thin, skimpy skirts, hanging slack and empty from her hips, revealed, was obviously entirely without legs. She was, however, quite happy and cheery; and while her husband, as he proved to be, was out making arrangements with the fitter, she got into conversation with my wife, and was very friendly and charming.
As women will, they talked about their leglessness, compared their respective accidents, etc, and S. told my wife quite frankly that neither she nor her husband was at all troubled about her being entirely without legs. It was obvious that her husband had fallen in love with her because she was one-legged, and he was just as happy about her complete leglessness as he had been about her one-legged condition. It was then, too, that she told my wife that she had had her single shoes and slippers made by the same bootmaker.
"But," she said with a gay laugh, "we haven't that expense now. I haven't to worry about shoes and stockings any more — nor crutches! What a nice, economic wife I turned out to be!"
Well the upshot of it was that we all became friendly, and our beautiful little "half lady", as she often calls herself, is a frequent visitor, with her husband, to our place. And people who might think that the husband of an entirely legless wife and the woman herself should be depressed and unhappy, should see them together. They are the happiest and gayest couple we know.
Incidentally, with my wife, S. is a bridge friend, and other one-legged lady friends share their interest. It would startle a stranger, knowing nothing of the facts, to see, as I often do, four very gay ladies round a bridge table in my drawing room. Below the table there are only three attractive and shapely feminine legs instead of the normal number, eight. Three of the ladies, including my wife, are one-legged; and the other, S. of the above little anecdote, quite legless.
And all are happy and perfectly content, and their husbands think they are wonderful!
Strange, but amazingly true.
Yours sincerely,
Wallace Stort


London Life October 1, 1938 p. 25
Advice To A Lame Girl
Dear Sir, — As a lame girl myself, may I be allowed to reply to the letter from "A Mere Man", who asks: Should a girl of his acquaintance be encouraged to use a crutch at her wedding to offset a bad limp?
My reply is: "No!" The man who is marrying her loves her, despite her bad limp. He doesn't want to see his bride hampered by a crutch (which takes time to use); and then there is the physiological aspect of the matter. Crutches are advocated by medical men only in cases of need. The reason is plain. No injured limb thrives of being pampered, or spared its proper work, for the muscles go slack and soft and after getting used to the assistance of a crutch, they are loathe to take up their work again.
I know that if I once let my injured leg have an easy time by using crutches, I would only get more lame after a time, besides being hampered in my housework. Therefore I say that the bride-to-be should not adopt a crutch unless she needs one; and, if she did, her medical adviser would have mentioned the matter before now.
As for "Mere Male" saying that he "admires" crutches, I may say that I think that he is only trying to be kind to we cripples, who feel our infirmities more than we dare to show. Crutches are a very necessary aid to infirmity, but I don't think that anyone should adopt one, save in case of need, without proper medical advice, as, after all, a doctor knows best just what an injured limb is capable of doing.
Yours truly,
Another Limping Girl.


London Life October 22, 1938 p. 20
How Did It Happen?
Dear Sir, — Here is something to interest Mr. Stort and his readers, an odd experience of mine that happened recently to me and might have come out of one of his stories. For a start, may I mention that I am not a "monopede lover", or anything of the sort? I like my lady friends to have all their proper limbs. I don't understand a kink that makes some people find one leg more attractive than two. But I know it takes all sorts to make a world, and we all have our funny ideas, I know I have.
I am a reader of many years' standing, but have only be written to you once before upon a very different subject. I have just returned from a holiday in Central Europe, and among other places I visited, I spent three pleasant days in a pleasant hotel on the outskirts of Budapest. I was very interested in a party staying there, an American family consisting of a father and a mother, a daughter and her fiancй, and a maid who travelled with them.
The girl, a very pretty and vivacious blonde of about 24, was what has become known to readers as a monopede. She was very slight and willowy, and had only one leg, a very neat and shapely limb, which she was very proud of. Except in the evening she usually wore bright-coloured dresses touching her knee. Here stockings were of the invisible kind, usually flesh coloured, though she didn't wear a stocking in the evening as her toes with red polished nails could be seen peeping through her sandal. She had a small, dainty foot, and wore a very thin, flimsy shoe, with a very high heel.
She swung about very nimbly, usually on a pair of thin black crutches, though often she used only one crutch in the hotel.
You may wonder how I came to notice all this about her; but I wasn't the only one. We were all interested in her. You don't often come across a pretty, one-legged girl in a hotel on holiday, and I dare say that I took more notice of her because of the letters and stories about monopedes I have read from time to time in "London Life".
I noticed that she wore an engagement ring. The ladies noticed that, you may be sure! Her fiancй, a tall, good-looking American didn't seem to mind showing he was very fond of her.
But I haven't really come to the real reason for the great interest we took all in her and her family, and why I came to write this letter. We should have been interested in her for her own sake. But though I know it sounds like a fairy tale and a bit of imagination, the strangest and most curious thing was that her mother had no legs at all!
I remember the first night we were at the hotel just as we were finishing dinner. The party I speak of had finished, and I first of all saw the girl. She was passing our table, swinging along on her crutches. I didn't know then that she was one-legged, as she wore a long evening dress. Then came her mother in a wheelchair pushed along by the good-looking boy, and the father at the side. She was also in full evening dress, and I thought she must be an invalid, though she looked a very healthy invalid, all the same!
But I soon heard the gossip in the hotel — everybody was full of it. They were an American family with plenty of money, touring Europe and doing everything regardless of the expense.
The mother was a good-looking woman, not a day older than 45. I should say, with a nice figure, a bit on the plump side. She was very smart, with her hair just as blonde and waved as the girl's. She was a very jolly woman, laughing and joking with her family, though none of them had much to do with anybody else.
The curious thing about it all — at any rate, to people like myself — was that the family didn't seem to worry about things or about the curiosity of the other people in the hotel. All they did was to fuss very much and very affectionately about the mother. They didn't seem to trouble a great deal about the girl. I don't think she would have let them, if they tried. She seemed to take her one leg for granted. She was a very active and independent sort of girl, and she'd have probably told them off if they tried to make a fuss of her.
There were many stories floating round the hotel about the loss of their legs. People who professed to know all about it told us that the mother had never had any legs, being born without them. Others who also knew it all had a more interesting story. The mother, according to them, had lost her legs in an accident when a young girl, and had made a romantic marriage as a legless bride with the son of a very rich man. Then, strange to say, her only daughter had lost her leg in exactly the same way years later.
But the story most of us believed was that both mother and daughter had lost their legs in the same car crash. I should say that was the real truth, as it explained things in a simple way.
I remember seeing an account in the papers only a few months ago, where an engaged couple both lost their right legs in a motor cycle accident and now go about on crutches with only one leg each. So such an accident can easily happen.
Yours truly,
A.B.T.
(The facts alluded to by our correspondent will probably, in the future, be much more common than in the past, since there are now so many accidents involving the loss of life and limb, particularly the latter. — Ed.)


London Life October 29, 1938 pp. 28 — 32
The Clue Of The Purple Heart /2
by Wallace Stort
(See story-files!...)


London Life November 5, 1938 p. 21
A Charming Coincidence
Dear Sir, — It is some time since I have written to you but on reading a letter from a reader telling how he met a girl who was interested in earrings, made me decide to write you this letter and tell you how I came to meet the man to whom I am now engaged.
As you know, I am a cripple, with only one leg. When buying shoes, I go to a certain shop where the manager is most sympathetic and, as his is one of a chain of shops, he can let me have a single shoe at a time, being able to get one without upsetting his stack.
The other month I went in for a shoe, and there found a young man busy trying on shoes. From his conversation, I knew that he, too, was one— legged, and that the kindly manager also obliged him. To cut a long story short, we were introduced, and later went to have a coffee together, when we discussed the problems facing the one-legged. This started a friendship that is now to end in wedding bells.
My boyfriend is a commercial artist, so his one-leggedness is not against him. At first, our folks were up against the marriage, as they said our mutual handicap would make the running of a household impossible; but we cut bits out of the paper telling of blind couples who married, and apparently managed very well; and when Dick's mother said that she would love to do our house-keeping for us (she is a widow), that solved our problems in the neatest possible way.
I thought you might be interested in knowing how a mutual incapability brought two people together, so I have written you this letter with Dick's consent.
Yours truly,
Dawn


London Life November 12, 1938 p. 25
Somebody Loves Her
To the Editor. Dear Sir, — I was very interested in "A.B.T.'s" letter recently of the legless mother and one-legged daughter. Although I am one— legged myself, I have never met with one of my own s*ex who has undergone a double amputation, though I suppose such cases exist.
I don't think I should like to have both legs off. I am entirely happy with only one, and enjoy the attention a pair of crutches and my one foot attract. Most people pity a one-legged girl, but there are many compensations.
My sister, with whom I live, is a big, athletic girl, and rather scorns my little high-heeled court shoes, and thinks I should hide my one-legged conditions as much as possible.
My left leg was taken off when I was 14, leaving me with a short stump about 8 inches long. I cycled, and used to play a few games with a single crutch. I soon got my balance, and was able to hop about in the house or garden without a crutch at all. As I grew up, my only fear was that men would shun me; but I soon found out that some men seemed to admire my one— legged condition and to seek to get to know me, and now I am engaged to very dear boy who confesses that he prefers me as I am.
Yours truly,
Single Shoe


London Life November 19, 1938 p. 34
A Happy Pair
Dear Sir, — Although I have been a one-legged reader of your paper for several years, I have never before contributed to its columns.
I am 24 years of age, and was married when I was 18, and whilst on a motoring honeymoon with my husband (who was a Frenchman, and much older than myself) we were involved in an accident which resulted in my husband being killed and my right leg being badly smashed, which necessitated its amputation.
After the amputation I stayed in the nursing home for several months, getting used to crutches and eventually finding favour with just one slender crutch, which I consider the best way for a one-legged girl to get about.
I eventually got back to my parents house, and shortly after, my little girl, Celeste, was born. She is now five years old. My husband left me fairly well off, so I had no troubles of any kind beyond the fact that I was a one-legged girl and a mother. My little daughter cannot understand why I have only got one leg, and she often says, "Why is it, Mummy, that you have not got two legs like other mothers, instead of a long wooden one?" Meaning my crutch, of course.
I must say that my amputation was a splendid success, as I never had the slightest trouble since, which is perhaps because I have never tried to wear an artificial leg, and I do not intend to, as I am quite enamoured with my little collection of different types of crutches in various colours.
I took Celeste and her nurse to the South Coast last year to a bungalow I had rented, and whilst we were done there I met a most charming one-legged boy two years older than myself. I was feeling rather tired one afternoon, and was hopping one-legged along the front on my crutch, when a car pulled into the kerb and a voice said:
"Can I give you a lift, my one-legged colleague?"
He opened the door, and I then saw that he was minus his left leg. So I said, "Thanks so much," and put my crutch in the back with his, and hopped on the seat beside him.
He told me that he was an accountant with a very big firm, and that as we were both one-legged, I was to call him Jim, so I told him that my name was Julie. I asked him to come and have a cup of tea on the lawn, which he did.
I went to a show with him that night, and the next evening he called for me to take me home to dinner and introduce me to his mother, with whom he lived. She was a very charming lady, and at once made me feel quite at home, wanting to know how and when I had lost my leg.
Jim lost his in a motor smash, too.
To cut a long story short, Jim and I were married twelve months ago. We went to the South of France for our honeymoon, and Jim's mother took care of Celeste whilst we were away. Needless to say, whenever Jim and I go hopping along together we get a lot of attention paid us. I must say, however, that when we are together we make a handsome one-legged pair, and we are not adverse to going anywhere at all.
I have just started getting about again, having presented my daughter Celeste with a little baby sister whom we have named Margaret, after Jim's mother.
I have no regrets at all in regard to my one-legged condition, and neither has Jim, and we make the best of things. We have a car and a good income, so what more could two married monopedes desire? We have taken a vow that we will never wear an artificial leg of any sort, but just go on in our own one-legged way.
Wishing "London Life" the best success is the ardent desire of two happy one-legged mortals.
Yours truly,
One-Legged Wife.


London Life November 26, 1938 pp. 20 — 26
The Clue Of The Purple Heart /3
by Wallace Stort
(See story-files!...)


London Life November 26, 1938 p. 67
Strange Fascination
Dear Sir, — I feel I must write my appreciation of Wallace Stort's serial which you have now started. As a one-legged lady reader, I am particularly interested to read a story with a one-legged heroine — the more so as the author shows an intimate and first-hand knowledge of his subject. No doubt many readers will be looking forward to your next instalment.
It occurs to me that the story may bring you letters from other one-legged girls, giving their experiences. If so, it will be most interesting to read them.
It is now nearly five years since my right leg was amputated just above the knee. I have never worn an artificial leg as I dislike the ungainly walk which such an aid would give. Very shortly after my disablement I met on several occasions a girl, who wears one; and, observing her, I resolved not to experiment myself in that direction.
After long practice, I have perfected my balance upon a single leg sufficiently to always wear a high-heeled shoe. It was a good while before I felt confident enough to walk outdoors upon a 3 inch heel, but nowadays I never wear lower than this. For indoor and evening wear I manage a 4 inch heel without difficulty, much to the surprise of my friends and the pleasure of my fiancй.
I must say, however, that a good deal of care has to be taken if one starts hopping about the room upon a shoe of this kind. I can do it by little hops, but it is quite a skilful exercise.
It is strange what a fascination a single shapely leg has for very many of the opposite s*ex. In conjunction with a pretty high-heeled shoe this is even more noticeable. I always dress smartly, wearing a frock or skirt of normal length, am "easy to look at" so far as face and figure are concerned, and have never felt myself to be unattractive as a result of my disability.
Certainly my experiences would not seem to prove me unattractive in any way — a single silk clad leg and a pair of well-made slender crutches often seem to add to whatever other attractions I may have! This may sound odd to some people, but it has been my experience.
Indoors I use one crutch only, and the same outdoors when walking with my fiancй, as he likes me to take his arm. When walking by myself, however, I use a pair of crutches, as I do not like the uplifted shoulder which I cannot avoid with a single crutches.
I have four pairs of crutches, all of them of a slender pattern, and well finished. My newest pair are all-black but have chromium plated fittings at the hand rests, and are rather attractive. They are of such a slender design that my fiancй says that they look frail and seems to expect them to break. They are really quite strongly made, although light and comfortable to use.
I hope the above remarks may be of interest to some other readers.
Yours truly,
Monoe.


London Life December 3, 1938 p. 21
Why People Feel Pain In Arms And Legs They've Lost
Dear Sir, — For a long time students and physicians of medical science have been puzzled to a phenomenon common to many people who have had a leg or an arm amputated. A great many of these surgical cases occasionally "feel" pain in the missing limb for years afterwards. The accepted explanation was that this sensation was caused by the nerve ends cut off when the limb was amputated and the remaining nerve fibres were pressed or stretched, causing unpleasant stimuli to travel to the brain.
Now Dr. R. Molinery, a prominent French physician, after a great deal of research on the subject has advanced a new theory. He believes that dreams keep alive in the sub-conscious mind the picture of a complete body.
The same sub-conscious mind is chiefly responsible for pain. Accordingly it puts together its dream memories of a complete body and any sensations occasionally received over the cut nerve fibres to make what seems like a pain or other sensation in a part of the body now purely imaginary.
In one case investigated by Dr. Molinery a man who had lost his arm not only continued to feel his vanished thumb, but felt as though it were being thrust through the palm of the hand like a spike. In another, a woman who had her leg amputated many years previously continued to feel pain in the infected foot which had originally made the operation necessary.
Cases such as these, according to Dr. Molinery, should be treated mentally, rather than physically, as has been the practice up to the time when recently he explained his theory to the society of Medicine in Paris.
Yours truly,
Student.


London Life December 31, 1938 pp. 43 — 49
The Clue Of The Purple Heart 4
by Wallace Stort
(See story-files!...)


London Life December 31, 1938 p. 71
Additional Charm
Dear Sir, — As far back as I can remember, I have been strangely fascinated and interested in limbless people. I have no near relatives or friends so afflicted, and am at loss to understand how or why this interest ever got a start in my thoughts. For a number of years I felt I must have been alone in the world, and never mentioned it to a soul.
After the rather discouraged tone of the first letter from "One-Legged Novice," I am sure all of your readers felt better when she wrote again and told of her wonderful happiness and satisfaction with being one-legged. Couldn't she and "Glad To Be So" give us some of those pictures they promised if anyone was interested? I'm sure many readers are. I am happy, also, that our friend "Dawn" has found real happiness as she wrote recently.
Wallace Stort's thrilling stories certainly bear out my own thoughts that the loss of a limb brings charm and fascination to a girl if she takes it in the proper spirit.
Yours truly,
A Mere Biped.
Singapore.



User avatar

Topic Author
Bazil
Старожил
Posts: 514
Joined: 01 Sep 2017, 23:35
Reputation: 283
Sex: male
Has thanked: 698 times
Been thanked: 630 times
Russia

Re: Letters to the magazine "London Life" 1924-1941

Post: # 25640Unread post Bazil
18 Feb 2018, 12:48

1939

London Life January 21, 1939 pp. 22 — 23
Confession
Dear Sir, — I was interested to read a letter from "Student" in "London Life" recently on pains in amputated limbs. I am minus my left leg since I was a girl of about ten, but can still feel the toes of my missing foot sometimes, and pains in them. Another symptom I and other amputees suffer from is a violent jumping of the stump, especially in bed at night. All this symptoms arise from the severed nerves, my doctor tells me.
I have read with much interest Wallace Stort's stories of one-legged and armless girls, and was also interested to read in the "Daily mirror" of December 24, 1938, an interview with a legless girl of 18 who gets about with ease on her hands. It is wonderful what one can get used to, and after twelve years on one leg, I am quite reconciled to it and can get about as easily and quickly as my normal friends. After all, one leg only is a very different proposition to no legs at all and, and like many of your other cripple girl correspondents, I confess to a liking for the interest and sympathy my single leg arouses. If I had both my legs I should be only one of the crowd; but now, when I hop along on a smart pair of crutches and pretty shoe, I attract attention everywhere and, womanlike, I enjoy it. Two other girls in this town go about with artificial legs, but I don't envy them. One of them is now married and so is another girl who walks with a single crutch and pushes her pram with two lovely children. So you see we cripples also get husbands. I, too, have found that many men are attracted to limbless girls, and although I am not yet married, it is only because the right man has not yet come along.
I always dress as smartly as I can afford to, and love nice frocks and pretty high-heeled shoes. I now get single shoes made for me instead of buying a pair. My skirts I have made rather narrow and tight, as the empty left side blows about in windy weather, besides which it looks smarter with a single leg.
On Sundays, when the weather is nice, I often get taken out in a boyfriend's car, generally going to a nice hotel for lunch, and I must confess to a thrill when I hop out of the car and, putting my crutches under my arms, I swing along into a perhaps crowded dining room amidst the curious and sympathetic stares of the other people.
During the recent severe weather it has been dangerous for one-legged people. Like some of your other girl correspondents, I can hop for some distance without crutches, and with a low-heeled shoe I get about the house quite easily, and can even drag myself upstairs on my hands; but it soon gets very tiring, and one is glad of a friendly crutch again.
I do hope that this letter is not too long and that other one-legged girls will write again and not leave your excellent paper entirely to wrestler and long-hair fans.
Yours truly
Single Shoe


London Life January 28, 1939 p. 59
A Congenital Monopede
Dear Sir, — I am 22 years of age, and I have been one-legged all my life. I was born minus my right leg. Through my one-leggedness being congenital, a crutch has become quite natural to me, and I can get about quite as easily as any ordinary girl, on my one and only leg.
According to letters I have read in "London Life" from time to time, I think I am rather different in several respects to the majority of the one— legged correspondents.
Firstly, I am a big girl, standing 5 feet 9 inches, and turning the scales at just over 12 stones.
Secondly, I am a congenital one-legged girl.
I was told by an artificial limb maker that it would be very difficult and uncomfortable for me to wear an artificial leg; but I have no thought of doing so.
I am staying with some friends of my parents (who are now dead), and they have a delightful place in the country. I am taking lessons in golf at the club near by. I have a private income left me by my parents, and I run a small car.
A few weeks ago, when I was driving home from the Golf Club, my car conked out, and there was poor me hopping on my one leg, first from the engine to the starting handle, trying to swing her over, when a most charming young man in plus-fours jumped from a car which had just pulled up and, smiling, asked me if he could help me.
I thanked him, and while he was looking for the trouble I hopped on my tired leg and sat down on the running board and had a quiet smoke. He soon got the engine running, and as we had a smoke together we had a nice long talk. He seemed more than interested in my one-leggedness, and was most surprised when I told him I was born as I was.
It appeared that he was on his way to where I was staying for a week-end visit, so we drove close together. We had a charming week-end and, and needless to say, Pat (that's his name) and myself had a most glorious time together, going for quite long walks in the fields and lanes. It rather surprised him to see that I can get about as I do with only one leg.
Since he left we have corresponded with one another, and I have arranged to spend a few weeks with his parents when my visit to my friends terminates. He is a partner in an engineering firm, and seems to have plenty of leisure, as he has run down several times to see me in the last week or two. I must admit that I am more than fond of him.
When I am at his par friendship develops. In the meantime, I wish "London Life" a happy and wonderful year.
Yours truly,
One-Legged Dorothy.


London Life January 28, 1939
The Truth Behind Wallace Stort Stories
Dear Sir, — May I thank you very much for the very generous "amend" you inserted at the conclusion of my story in the New Year's Eve number of "London Life". I am afraid I was rather outspoken in my letter about "cuts" in the story, but apparently you took it all in good part; and for that, and your nice footnote, I am very grateful. On the whole you did the best you could with the story in the circumstances. I can, however, unreservedly thank Miss Stanton for her very charming illustrations throughout, most of which were delightfully "in character", particularly those of "Tina".
I was very interested in your reference to possible future book publication of the story. Do I understand that you are contemplating its publication in book form? I sincerely hope so; and, if so, I shall very much look forward to its appearance. If you are entering this field, you could follow with another "Stort" book, containing the three stories featuring the adventure of "La Belle Monopede", "The Tattooed Butterfly", "At the Moignon d'Or", "Dr. Nicholas". Other books could feature the stories, "The Strange Quest of Anthony Drew" and "The Strange Adventures of a Lover", both of which ran seriously through your columns some years ago. I hope you will venture into this field, as, apart from my own work, there is a good deal of other material, notably the correspondence, that could be reissued in book form.
As for the story that has just concluded in your columns, I wonder, as I always do, how it was received by the mass of your readers. I know that many readers regard as a nonsense anything not connected with their own particular fads. But others are broader in their views, and will perhaps welcome a fantastic story for its own unusual quality. I hope they at least liked the "Purple Heart". Nobody realises, more than I do that these stories of mine deal with a world of fantasy, very far removed from ordinary everyday life. But at the same time they do actually have some relation to reality, or, at any rate, to a queer sub-section of it. One realises this when reading the letters appearing at regular intervals from "monopede" lady readers and from monopede lovers. And it is particularly brought home to myself at periods like the Christmas season we have just left behind us.
It is then that I receive, as I did as usual this year's cards and photographs and cordial messages from my many friends of the show world of Europe and America. And believe me, my show of cards this year would suggest to readers, could they see them, capital illustrations for one or other of my stories. I have had cards — with photographs, always with photographs, by the way, for these side-show stars are very vain of their charms — from "Armless Beauties" and "Legless Halfbodies", one from a German "sister" act now in the states — two charming girls, who are not sisters, of course, each with only one leg, and who do a clever contortion, balancing and jumping act; one very special one from one of the most attractive girls, you could wish to meet, but who is, as she was born, as totally without arms and legs as the "Princess Ottilie" of my recent story — and many others.
And a little while before Christmas I received the following interesting and extraordinary cutting from an American show weekly, sent by an American friend of mine who shares my interest in the show world, and keeps me posted about interesting and out-of-the-way items. It is taken from a kind of gossip feature, edited from a member of staff of the paper, and made of items sent in by show-folk readers. The style in this, and throughout the paper, is amusingly colloquial, as you will see.
(Note: The words in brackets are my own explanations and comments on the text.)
"Zita"
"Zita", former, attractive and popular side-show feature, widely known as the "Armless Venus", infos (i.e. informed reports) from Tacoma, Texas, per her manager, Ed. Gruden, that she is back in the midway show-booths ("midway" — the main avenue in a carnival or fair ground, where the most popular shows are to be found and the crowd is thickest) after an absence of over three years. She tells me that her many friends and admirers among the public will be agreeably surprised ("agreeably" is an odd word in this particular context!) to find that she is now legless as well as armless. As "Zita" reminds me, she left the shows in order to have her lower limbs removed, as the same trouble was developing in them that was responsible for the amputation of her arms when she was a four-year old toddler. She is delighted to be back in harness again, and pardonably proud to have become one of the very select band of completely limbless ladies now before the public.
* * * *
She is already very much in demand by exhibitors and is cashing in heavily on her new status as a star side-show attraction. Her new billing, described her as "The Beautiful Living Torso, Zita, Peerless Armless and Legless Venus", will make her rivals sit up and take notice. But she can get away with it, with bells, as she is, as this scribe can testify, a stunning blonde, very easy on the eye and only a year or two out of her teens. She hands a large bouquet to her surgeon, Herman ("Doc") Marks, widely known and well liked by show folk, many of whom he had operated on, for his sympathetic and skilful work in connection with her case. He performed the ticklish double hip amputation with little or no troublesome after-effects to his patient, and left the plucky little lady a neat, attractive torso, with no unsightly stumps. She is naturally delighted with the results, as her appearance on the pedestal, in her silk fleshings, has the real, genuine professional "limbless lady" effect of a girl born entirely without either arms or legs.
* * * *
"Zita" confesses coyly that she took the opportunity, during her enforced absence from the shows, to get hitched up in holy matrimony, on which this scribe and her host of admirers offer heartiest congrats. The lucky man is not connected with Showland, but is in real estate on his own and doing very nicely, thank you. The ceremony took place in the groom's home town, by special license, a couple of months back, and by way of a joke, the fact that the little lady in the case had nary a hand to shake or a leg to stand on was kept a dead secret from the church people. The happy pair and their friends got a big laugh when the preacher-man's chin dropped at first sight of the blushing and beauteous bride being carried in like a cute little baby in arms. And the fun became furious when the poor unfortunate reverend had to decide where exactly to place the wedding ring!
As a matter of fact, though the lady insisted on her groom presenting her, for luck, with an ordinary sized wedding ring, and a magnificent — and consequently expensive — engagement ring — though where she'll wear them is nobody's business! — A special plain gold bracelet was used for the actual ceremony, this being slipped, at the proper moment, over the bride's left shoulder stump. The register was signed in a bold, flowing "hand" by the bride, holding the pen in her mouth. It is fortunate, as she points out, that she trained herself to use both her mouth and her feet, during her armless days, no doubt in anticipation of the time when she might find herself, as she is today, legless as well as armless. She says in conclusion, that she is on the top of the world, happy as the day is long, with no regrets and better in health than she has been for years, now that she has at last got rid of limbs that were becoming a growing handicap and danger.
Atta girl, "Zita", 'at's the spirit! Mighty glad to know you are back where you belong, though minus a few more limbs — but what are a couple of legs between friends? Pleased to learn, too, that you packing them in on the lot ("packing them in on the lot" — getting crowded audiences in her fair shows on the fair grounds) and heading for greater success than ever. Drop us a line when you are showing anywhere round this neck of the woods and this scribe will be happy to pay his personal respects. Regards from all here."
This remarkable effusion is very typical of life in Showland. It is quite obvious that the people concerned live in a world of their own, a completely fantastic world from the normal individual's standpoint. Even the "scribe" himself, though an onlooker, is very evidently in harmony with their ideas. He accepts with complete complacency, as a quite normal item of news, the extraordinary fact that a young and pretty girl, already entirely armless, can retire from the shows in order to have both her legs removed from the hips and then return, obviously immensely pleased with herself and excited at the prospect of showing herself to the public as a completely limbless torso and "cashing in heavily" on her new status as a star side show attraction.
You have to know these people personally to understand them and their strange points of view. They regard themselves as something rather wonderful and set apart, "artistes" in their own particular line, and anything that can add to their "status as a side-show attraction" they welcome with avidity.
I do not know and have never seen, to my knowledge, this particular girl "Zita", at any rate, under the name — these people use a variety of "professional" names. But reading between the lines of the above account, I shouldn't be one bit surprised to discover that, though the removal of her legs had become necessary because of some progressive bone or blood trouble, it was not actually necessary to amputate completely from the hips.
Usually in trouble of this kind, a much lower amputation will suffice to halt the progress of the poison or whatever it is. At any rate, it is usual to try such an amputation first of all. But "Zita" had her "professional" career and particularly her appearance in the show booth to think of. And I have no doubt that an understanding was arrived at between herself and her surgeon (who would obviously understand the situation).
Otherwise the operation appears to have been terribly drastic, and one that is only resorted to in the most unusual and desperate circumstances. Odd as it may seem, I have heard whispers of cases somewhat similar, though not so drastic.
In any case, examples of this kind and others, to be encountered in Showland, illustrate my point about there being some relation to reality about my stories, fantastic and out of the ordinary though they be.
But I have gone on to such length that I had better stop before the Editor gets uneasy, if he isn't that already!
May I thank you once again and offer my belated wishes for a very prosperous New Year for the paper and the staff?
Yours very sincerely,
Wallace Stort.


London Life January 28, 1939 p. 62
A Welcome Waiting
Dear Sir, — I should like to thoroughly endorse what "A Mere Biped" has said in a recent issue, that many of us are intrigued by the attractive appearance of one-legged girls on their crutches, and to emphasise that we are still waiting for the promised photos of "One-legged Novice" and "Glad To Be So".
I would add that more letters from these two correspondents and some from "One-Legged Preferred", "One Leg", "Happy On One" and "One Legged" would be more than welcome by many of us who think that the fascinating subject about girls who have lost a leg has recently been somewhat neglected in your correspondence columns.
Yours faithfully,
Another Biped.


London Life February 11, 1939 p. 24
The Other Side Of The Question
Dear Sir, — I don't want you to think me disgruntled. I lost my right leg three years ago, when I was 19, and I have had time to get used to it. All the same, there are still a few things, that make me regret my loss, and I am wondering if any of your other one-legged readers can help me. Here is a list:
1. My hands. — As a result of curling my fingers over the crutch handles, I find it difficult to keep the skin soft and smooth and to prevent the muscles becoming over-developed. I'm sure my hands have already lost some of their slenderness.
2. My ankle. — Before I lost my leg I was a dancer, and the shapeliness of my calves and ankles was my strong point. Now I am told I must expect my ankle to thicken, though not necessarily enough to make it unsightly. Incidentally, I understand that if I wore an artificial leg (which would save my hands), this would be even more pronounced, and anyhow it would be tiring.
3. Evening dress. — It's a tricky business selecting material strong enough to stand the wear of the crutches under the arms without it looking conspicuous. At present I conceal the padding under a short cape.
4. Shoes. — Out of vanity, I wear a 3 inch heel, though not very pointed, on important occasions, but my ankle soon tires and aches if I have to do much walking on it. I have never ventured on to anything higher, and prefer a sandal with a comfortable Cuban heel.
5. Carrying things. — I have a little hook attached to one of my crutches near my hand, on which I can hang a bag, but people with two legs can have no idea how awkward it is carrying parcels and shopping on crutches. And if one drops something and has to pick it up! It often tempts me to try and wear an artificial leg.
6. Snow. — I'm scared stiff of walking on snow or any slippery surface — for instance, glass pavement lights outside shops.
7. Talking. — I can't help feeling self-conscious when I say "My shoe" or "My leg" instead of "My shoes" and "My legs". It's worse still when people say to me, "I hope your shoe isn't wet."
8. Staring. — Before my accident I used to attract a certain amount of attention because of my long black hair and the good Irish complexion and blue eyes which nature gave me. Now they stare at my leg and crutches. Men to a certain extent, but middle-aged women are the worst. It drives me mad when I hear them drop their voices to pass some pitying remark.
9. Holidays. — I never make a fuss of my disability and for that reason I hate people of either s*ex who regard me as a curiosity, no matter how sympathetically. I feel that if I go away with people for a holiday they make sacrifices to keep my company — say they don't want to play tennis or go for a long walk or dance. Last summer I went away alone, which was restful but dull.
10. Men. — I used to get away well and easily with the opposite s*ex. Now I feel that they are kind, or curious, or both; never anything deeper or sincere. I hope I'm quite wrong. I have a good secretarial job, and my salary, with the income from my accident compensation, makes me quite independent, so there's no real reason for my inferiority complex. Yet if ever a man shows more than a passing interest in me, I can't help the embarrassing feeling that he is only perversely attracted by my crippled self instead of by my real self.
These are my chief problems. I have minor ones. For instance washing my back in my bath without losing my balance. But if go on, you'll get the impression, I'm a dismal sort of creature which I'm certainly not. Being one-legged has its humours, and a couple of examples may amuse your readers.
I'm bad at waking in the mornings. I always sleep on my left side, having lost my right leg, and occasionally when I am still half asleep I forget about my amputation and put (as I think) my right leg out of bed first, and try to stand on it with the result that I collapse ungracefully on the floor. I assure you that until I am fully awake it feels exactly as if the leg was still there.
And on other sleepy occasions I find myself peering over the edge of the bed trying to find the second slipper! I wonder if other one-legged people have similar experiences.
I could go one for ages writing about myself, but I'm sure this letter is quite long enough, so I'll just conclude by saying how much I appreciate "London Life", particularly the letters from other one-legged girls describing their problems and adventures, which always interest me.
Yours truly
Colleen On Crutches.


London Life February 25, 1939 p. 67
One-Legged Actors
Dear Sir, — Mr. Wallace Stort's letter on show freaks reminds me of the only one-legged act I ever saw on the variety stage, and that was about 1912 at Dover. They called themselves "The Three French Poilus", and were three one-legged men. Two of them appeared in smart evening dress, on crutches and each had a leg off above the knee.
Discarding their crutches, which were of silver-coloured metal, they proceeded to do some amazing acrobatic feats.
During the whole act, which lasted about fifteen minutes, they hopped about on their single legs without ever touching a crutch. The third man was a kind of clown and wore a pin leg, which he would use to try to baulk the others' act and to give comic relief.
I also saw in one of Cochran's shows in London four or five years ago a scene with a showman exhibiting his freaks — these were in cabinets on the stage and the curtains were drawn in turn from each recess.
One exhibit was a one-legged woman, and when the curtain was drawn there was a beautiful woman in tights with only one leg. I rather expect that this was a fake. Perhaps some of your other readers may have seen other shows of this kind.
Yours truly,
Interested Monopede.


London Life March 11, 1939 p. 22
A Happy "Hoppy"
Dear Sir, — I am 28 years of age, and I have been a reader of "London Life" for ten years, the last eight of which have been as a one-legged girl, during which time I have hopped through life on my left leg with the aid of a single crutch, which means of support I prefer, as it always leaves one hand free.
My friends tell me I am a rather strikingly good-looking girl. I am a South American, having been born in Argentine. My skin is rich dark brown accentuated by my shingled, jet-black, sleek, glossy hair, which is added to by my lips being painted with a bright vermilion lipstick, which further enhanced the rich darkness of my complexion.
I have lived in England since quite a youngster, having lost my parents when I came down from school at the age of 18. I was left quite a nice adequate income, and I sold the house and invested in a car (I still own one), and have spent my time travelling rather extensively.
When I was twenty I became involved in an accident in which my right knee got badly smashed, which made it necessary to amputate my leg. I went into a nursing home for this purpose, and a few days later my leg was amputated well up the thigh, so that I cannot wear either an artificial or a peg leg even if I so desired, which happily I do not.
After the amputation of my leg I must admit I had rather serious misgivings as to my one-legged future; but when I eventually graduated to a single crutch I did not feel so helpless, and life seemed to become more enjoyable. I think any one-legged girl who can properly manipulate a single crutch has a much more graceful hop than those who use the stereotype two— crutch method. This, of course, is just my opinion.
As the months slipped past I got more and more satisfaction out of my one— legged condition, and now for some six years I have been happy to realise that I prefer one-leggedness. I must heartily agree with "One Leg" on this one-legged complex; and, after all, only those who are one-legged can have these ideas towards their greatly altered circumstances, caused by the amputation of a leg. I have simply stated that which I have personally experienced and prefer.
When I hop on my single crutch I derive a thrill of pleasure a the attraction my one-legged appearance always creates. Again some people might think, why should a one-legged girl wish to draw attention to her one— legged condition. My answer to that is: As I did not ask to lose my leg, I do not feel disposed in any way to try and camouflage my deficiency but, on the other hand, to dress in such a style as to make it appear perfectly palpable that I am quite unconcerned by the loss, and that I do not experience the slightest embarrassment.
I stayed on the South Coast of France for several months last year, and I shall never forget the wonderful scenery and the glorious swimming I was able to enjoy, in spite of my one-leggedness. I do not think it possible to experience a better feeling of exhilaration than to stand poised on one leg on the diving board, preparatory to taking a perfectly balanced header into the blue waters. The sun nearly turned my naturally dark skin quite black, and when I returned to this country, my friends hardly recognised me.
On my way back I stayed at Paris for a fortnight, and had a really hectic time. I went almost everywhere and saw all that it was possible to see. I was more than lucky in this respect, because the first night at my hotel I was in the lounge after dinner, enjoying a liqueur and a cigarette with my crutch propped against my chair, when a very handsome man about my own age came hopping into the hotel on a single crutch. As he was passing he, of course, could not help seeing that I was one-legged, and when he noticed my smile he stopped and spoke in perfect English, asking if he might partake of his liqueur at my table. Of course I was only too glad. He looked very smart and well-groomed in a fashionable dinner suit, his left trouser leg being cut to fit his amputated leg, the same as I have pyjama trousers cut.
He offered me his cigarette case, and I joined him in another aperitif. He told me that his leg had been amputated as the result of a wound about eighteen months previously. I learnt during the evening that he came from Spain. We went everywhere together and, needless to say, we created a little attraction by our mutual though opposite one-leggedness.
He saw me off at the boat at Le Havre, and has been over twice to England to see me; and the second visit we go married. After a lovely motoring honeymoon he had to go back again for six months to get matters cleared up, when we intend settling down in the country in England.
A few weeks ago I was shopping at one of the West End stores when, turning a corner in one of the departments, I collided with another one-legged girl. When we covered our equilibrium, our recognition was mutual. She was my chum at school, and was a one-legged girl then. We adjourned to the tea— room and, of course, I had to tell her all about my own one-legged experiences, and my marriage.
She invited me to her place until my husband's return, and I am now staying with her. It was a real piece of luck meeting Kit, because we happen to take the same size shoe; and having lost respectively our right and left legs, the shoe question is now solved.
I feel I cannot finish my letter without asking you to accept from a one— legged girl, who is really and honestly glad to be one-legged, her sincere and earnest wishes for the continued success of "London Life", bringing — as I am sure it does — so much pleasure to all your "Happy on One" readers, of which I am one of the most ardent.
I also offer my kindest regards to all one-legged girl readers, "One Leg", "Glad To Be So", and "One Legged Dorothy".
Yours truly,
Hoppy.


London Life March 11, 1939 p. 21
Is It Always The Left?
Dear Sir, — I was most intrigued by the correspondence in a recent issue relating to girls with only one leg. Especially in the letter of "One— legged Dorothy". I notice that she said that it is her right leg that is missing.
For many years I have been collecting details about all the one-legs I see, and it may interest you to know that nearly three quarters of all the one— legged girls I have known were minus their left leg.
Would it be too much trouble to ask "London Life" to further clear up this point and find out if this high proportion of left one-leggedness is general?
I admire very much the courage and skill displayed by all your one-legged correspondents as being myself afflicted with one short leg, I have always had to use a stick.
Yours truly,
Curious.


London Life March 25, 1939 p. 56
The Best Solution
Dear Sir, — On reading the recent letter from "Colleen on Crutches", I can assure her that the best possible solution for all her problems is an artificial limb. Monopedes eventually experience all the difficulties she is finding and I have so myself. An artificial leg has its disadvantages, but taken on the whole it is better than struggling about on crutches. By this I do not mean that crutches should be dispensed with. Far from it; no one minus one leg can ever do that. At certain times they are infinitely better than false legs.
An artificial leg will overcome the problems of appearance, will give you freedom to carry things, overcome self-consciousness in conversation and in public. The one exception to constant use of a wooden leg is for evening wear. It is occasionally a thrill to use a single crutch to match the dress and, and with a high-heeled shoe on the remaining leg, is very attractive.
However, "Colleen on Crutches", if the remain of your leg is long enough, you will be able to get along easily and naturally without the aid of a stick — in which case I would suggest wearing the false leg for all occasions.
There is usually no absolute need to use a stick, though it helps a lot when starting to use a wooden leg. One tip: Do not let the knee joint be too loose, as the result when walking is of a horse pawing the ground. Keep the knee with a restricted movement. Sticks will be unnecessary, and both hands are free. Do not be discouraged at first.
I have worn a wooden leg for ten years. My greatest trouble is climbing stairs. My references to wooden legs is not meant literally. I doubt if I could manage with the old heavy, actually wood ones. I use a very light metal one; and my advice is to buy the best you can possibly afford, as it is going to be your companion and support for life, and cheap legs are not too comfortable.
Best of luck on "wooden" legs from one already on one.
Yours truly,
Walking On Two.


London Life March 25, 1939 p. 60 — 61
Swinging Along
Dear Sir, — With your permission I should like to address an open letter to "Colleen on Crutches". I think I am in a position to answer most, if not all of your queries in your letter to "London Life", but to do so I must crave the editors patience for a long letter.
I, too, am a one-legged girl, but have been on crutches longer than you, even though I am only 24. If I can help you, my crippled sister, I shall only be too pleased; but first let me say that you and I view our lost legs in rather different ways. You, my dear, have a very definite inferiority complex, occasioned by your loss, whilst I have no such feelings, as I'm infinitely happy in my one-legged state and endeavour to make an art of my misfortune(?) and get the best out of and for my one and only leg.
So, at the start, try and realise that most of your troubles are caused by that complex of yours.
1. Alter the position of your hands, ever so often, on the crutch hold and do not curl your fingers too much, but take the weight more above the palm of the hand.
2. Your ankle will not thicken, as no extra weight will be thrown on your leg — indeed less than if you still had both your legs — as the weight is taken by your arms and crutches. If you adopted that terrible contraption — a false leg — your own leg would certainly suffer a great deal.
3. Have your evening frocks slightly padded under the arms; but the question of material is, I admit, a difficult one.
4. In time you will be able to wear a much higher heel with complete comfort and confidence. Your ankle aching is caused by the fact that your crutches are not quite long enough to compensate for the high heel. They must be sufficiently long to allow you to stand without stooping with the rests comfortable under your armpits.
5. Do not use a hook on your crutches — it looks bad, and the parcels swing too much — but carry them by a string on your fingers as you grip the crutch hold.
6. Snow is a great trial for us cripples, but if your crutches are properly shod with rubber and you go carefully, you need have no fear of slipping; but on a frozen surface it is definitely risky even for those with two legs and little can be done to avoid falling, except to use great care. Always walk over glass with greatest caution.
7. This is just self-consciousness, and will very soon disappear when you are really accustomed to having only one leg and one foot. This is where your inferiority complex is at its worst. Get rid of it, and understand that you have attractions as you are now.
8. Your natural attractions are bound to give way before the obvious facts that you have only one leg and use crutches. When people have seen the obvious and have, very naturally, felt sorry for you as a young crippled girl, they will see your own natural attractions and the combination of these factors will soon make you forget the primary reason they stared at you. The remarks you hear you will, if you are wise, take in good part and real gratefulness that there are people who can, and do, sympathise with a pretty crippled girl. Remember that sympathy helps to make life livable.
9. In a sense you are wise not to go away with people, as you do not wish to spoil their fun and activities on account of your being a cripple. Why not go with a friend with whom you have a mutual understanding and who is ready to leave you alone when you prefer it? In this way you will be introduced to nice people and will not feel shy, as you might (on account of your lameness) if you met people entirely by yourself.
10. Men, if they are the right sort (the only ones worth troubling about), will naturally sympathise with you, and will want to know how it is you have only one leg. Tell them all about it, for it is nothing to be ashamed of. Next, they will try to help and cheer you up, and very soon that bond of attraction which started by your being one-legged will develop in friendship, for which you will thank the fates that bid you walk on crutches and deprived you of one shapely leg, thus giving you and your two great attractions — a pretty face and the irresistible attraction of being a one-legged cripple.
The last part of your letter dealing with minor matters, is most interesting. That concerning the washing of your back is easily overcome by doing so by sitting in the bath. Never do such things when standing on one leg in a slippery bath. If, however, you must stand, get a small weighted board to fit the bottom of the bath and big enough to stand on, but see that it is not soapy or you might fall and break your one remaining leg. Lastly, when you are in bed, it is all to the good that you feel you still have two legs. This, with your complex, probably precludes you from having unpleasant dreams.
You are lucky if you do not experience a jumping of the amputated limb, which is what most of us one-legged girls feel pretty often.
If any, or all, of my remarks have helped you, "Colleen on Crutches" to be brave and more content with your lot, and given you more confidence in yourself, I am glad, and you must join me in thanking the Editor for devoting so much valuable space for this letter.
Finally, do remember that both you and I are exceedingly attractive on our crutches, and it is up to us to make our own leg as charming as we can, and to dress our only foot in the daintiest of high-heeled shoes. We can then swing along on our slender crutches contented and happy in spite of our one-leggedness.
May you soon be as happy as
Yours truly,
Left Leg Only.


London Life March 25, 1939 p. 73
A Weighty One
Dear Sir, — I have been a reader of "London Life" for about two years, and as I am a one-legged girl I feel I should like to answer the letter from "Curious".
I have been through the volumes of "London Life" which I possess from the commencement of January 1937, and where one-legged readers state which leg has been amputated the right amputees number 18 and the left amputees 12.
I am 28 years of age and have been one-legged ten years. My leg has been amputated half-way up my right thigh owing to the kick of a horse.
I am the daughter of a farmer, and I have been the wife of one for seven years. Another reason why I am writing is to let "One-legged Dorothy" see that I can beat her weight. When I had two legs just before my amputation I weighed 14 stones, and now with only one leg I weigh just over 16 stones. Owing to my weight I cannot wear an artificial leg. I am outsize in everything. I cannot even get a blouse ready made.
I use a pair of crutches of the armpit type for outdoors. These are made fairly substantial with springs in the middle of the bow where the hand grips, and the shoulder rest are made of a sort of composition covered in soft chamois leather with two springs in each which fit in at the top of the bow. This springing obviates any parrying and as they yield to my extra obese under my arms I do not suffer from any tenderness which is rather surprising when you consider the weight they have to support.
I am not sure other one-legged readers will readily understand and sympathise with me when I say that for a girl of my size to be one-legged is not all beer and skitties, in several ways.
I should be stared at wherever I went owing to my plumpness; but adding to this my one-legged condition, you can easily realise the attraction I cause. Then again, there is the problem of dress in my case. The only decent thing I can wear is a severe tailored costume, because with a blouse and a skirt it makes me look bigger than ever.
I am thankful that we live right in the country, because I can wear about the farm a pair of trousers with one leg short and a polo pull-over, which does away with a dress which is half empty blowing around one's only leg and crutches.
When I am at home and can lounge back in a comfy chair I do not in the least mind being a one-legged girl, but it is when we go in our country town that I feel my extraordinary one-legged stature.
Yours truly,
One-Legged Adipose.


London Life April 8, 1939 p. 20
Percentages And Fractions
Dear Sir, — Finding my recent letter printed in the New Year's Eve number was a pleasant surprise. I hope that my letter, and the one from "Another Biped", who agreed with me so heartily, will prove encouraging to our limbless lady friends and bring to your pages more letters and pictures. Nearly every number lately has had a letter from a new monopede, and I am looking forward to seeing some pictures in the next double number.
Perhaps other monopede lovers and monopedes will be interested in the following items which I have compiled from numerous letters, newspapers cuttings, and other sources, on the fascinating subject of limbless ladies.
Although the general average is about even, I find that in America the majority of one-legged girls have lost their left legs, while among British girls the majority are minus their right legs. The percentage is about 60 per cent, in both cases. Although I know of only one or two British girls with missing arms, in America the same percentage holds true — 60 per cent, being minus their left arms.
Also in this number are five girls minus both legs, and two minus both arms.
Only one girl is mono-limbed, possessing only her left arm. She lost the other three limbs in a motor-train smash about two years ago. She is a Californian girl, and 21 years old at the time of the accident. I learned of her through a newspaper article which told of her work in bringing cheer and happiness to crippled children in a radio broadcast.
A most interesting fact is that of all the girls with missing legs whose ages I could get, every one is between 20 and 25 years of age, and all but one-fifth of them, or less, lost their limbs within the last five years. This certainly points to the highly dangerous aspect to life and limb of the present machine age with its speed and accidents.
However, since the ladies who suffer the loss of their arms and legs do not seem to mind their limblessness (and those who find cause to complain are only a small minority), I don't suppose much needs to be done about it. Besides that, the menfolk seem to like them just as well.
Yours truly,
A Mere Biped.
Singapore.


London Life May 6, 1939 p. 21
Some Common Sense
Dear Sir, — may I write to thank "Walking on Two" and "Left Leg Only" for their kind and interesting replies to my first letter?
I am afraid I disagree entirely with "Walking on Two". There's no medical reason why I should not wear an artificial leg, but I have yet to see anyone, male or female, with or without a stick, walk gracefully on one, and I still have enough feminine vanity to wish to appear just as graceful as I can. Nor do I wish to make an exhibition of myself by using "a single crutch to match the dress". It would, I am sure, embarrass my friends. But if "Walking on Two" gets away with it, the best of luck to her!
It would take more space than I could ask you to give if I were to answer fully "Left Leg Only", so let me concentrate for the moment on this "inferiority complex" question. I know I am self-conscious about being one— legged; it was to help me overcome that that a friend introduced me to "London Life". I realise that it is only natural that people should stare at me as I swing my way along on my crutches or stop and lean on them, because I consciously endeavour to do so as gracefully as I can. It's sheer stupidity on my part to invite attention and begrudge it when it is given. Yes it worries me when I am sitting in a bus, perhaps, and my skirt drops over the outline of my shortened right leg; and there are times when I suddenly want to howl my eyed out over a vague feeling of — well... inferiority. For instance, if I am walking as fast as I can along the pavement and realise that two-legged people are all overtaking me, or if the bus I want doesn't pull up just where I am standing, and move off before I have been able to get to it. On the other hand, there are simple little accomplishments which give a huge sense of triumph negotiating a moving staircase or revolving door; finding that one can still swim; walking the best part of five miles over the Downs.
"Left Leg only" says I should tell men all about my accident. I can see that in that way I could forestall their curiosity, but wouldn't it sound rather as though I was begging their sympathy? Am I to tell comparative strangers that I was being driven home one night after supper, that the driver had his hand on my knee — the knee that's no longer there — that there was a crash, that I went through six weeks of agony in hospital, with dressing and draining, setting and re-setting, before they finally amputated my right leg about five inches below the groin? That I was then, three years ago, professional hostess, dependent on dancing for my living, and that I danced my last dance at the age of nineteen? Wouldn't that be making a tragedy queen of myself? Or perhaps I should treat the whole thing lightly, so that he would have to tell me how plucky I am?
No, "Left Leg Only", I am afraid I am not the sort of person who could carry that off. However, as I am only 22, I needn't worry yet about being unmarried!
In conclusion, I should like to repeat that I am not a disgruntled person. I have just been reading John Knyveton's "Diary of a Surgeon in 1752", which has some interesting things to me about amputations in those days, and I fully appreciate being alive at all! And I feel that in time I shall honestly overcome my present muddled feeling that there is something just a little immoral in deliberately adding one-leggedness to my feminine attractions. After all, I might just as well be ashamed of having an attractive figure or face or eyes or hair.
I should have liked to answer "Left Leg Only" more fully, but I am sure I have gone on long enough for the present. I'll write about the other points she raises in a later letter.
Yours truly,
Colleen On Crutches.


London Life June 24, 19~9 p. 55
The Beauty Of Boots
Dear Sir, — It is as an important asset to any woman who takes a proper interest in the well-being of her outward appearance, that her nether limbs should be well and suitably clothed, as it is that her head should be suitably adorned or covered; and there is no greater or better acquisition toward this end than the encasing of her lovely limbs in a pair of equally lovely, well-fitting, high-laced boots. The effect they have upon the general appearance of the wearer more than amply compensates for expense, time and trouble involved.
But none of these things can be said of Russians, Cossacks, Wellingtons, and the like. They look slovenly, ungainly, and are only fitting foot-sacks for the limbs that are equally ungainly, and altogether the very reverse of beautiful.
That they may have their advantages in the countries from which they originate, and for the purposes for which they were originally made, is not for one moment being doubted; but for their introduction into the civil life of this country there was positively no just cause, and they altogether distract from the charm and queenly femininity of the wearer.
There are some other styles and patterns of high boots that are far in front of these; but to my mind there are none that can be mentioned in the same breath with the magnificent specimens of boot-craft that one sees embracing the queenly limbs of the ladies one meets perambulating from place to place in our cities and towns. And these are generally laced boots pulled tight over the limbs, reaching well up to the knee, or nearly so, stand erect and symmetrically upon well-shaped heels, from preferences from 2 inches to 3 inches high, that make it no stretch of the imagination to belief them to be the feet of a goddess and to furnish in the mind of an admirer a complete picture of the divine creature, suggested by the majestic and exquisite sweetness of the limbs upon which she moves and evades his admiring glances among the thoughtless and jostling crowds.
The modern representatives of the ancient craft of the boot-maker turn out some really wonderful and even magnificent specimens of their skill and craftsmanship to charm the eye and tickle the fancy of all aesthetic natural female grace and ladylike physical expression that should be the prerogative of our s*ex and the ambition of all the members belonging thereto. I have known in wonderful changes in outline and in improvements in deportment being wrought through this simple method of training; and probably, for this purpose, buttoned boots have the advantage over laced ones. And I think it is quite possible to improve, if not correct, some of the defects of pose and carriage in walking by the mere adoption of this class of covering and adornment for the nether limbs, and a determination to improve the outline thereof; for the correct carriage of the body is largely dependent upon the symmetrical and elegant deportment of the lower limbs.
Having said all this I am not forgetful of my own serious handicap; for although I have only one leg, I am quite satisfied that, by the correct carriage of my one nether limb, and the elegance of the garment in which it is clothed, the rest of my person is benefited, and the age within me enabled my gratification of expression, which the urge within me aspires, and my innermost soul improves.
Trusting that I have not encroached unduly upon your valuable space by the expression of these thoughts of mine, on what, to me, is a charming and engrossing subject, I beg to remain thanking you for all past favours and wishing your most admirable paper the real unadulterated success it so deserves.
Yours truly,
Lill.



Post Reply

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 7 guests