In my late teens and early twenties, I experienced hospitality working as a casual, selling fish and chips at Neptune’s Pantry, as a banqueting waiter at the Raven, hall porter at the Chateau Impney, and barman/porter/night manager at the Windermere Hydro hotels.

After completing college in 1984, I was disillusioned by the prospect of working long hours in a hotel for the rest of my life. Back at home in Droitwich, I looked at other options. A newspaper advertisement for a full time position in retail caught my eye. Mom drove me the six miles to Worcester for the interview. It was supposed to take 20 to 30 minutes.

The manager, Michael Dray had me describe the selling features of a fawn Italian leather high heel shoe with a gold piped darker tone lizard skin inverted chevron at the top of the counter (behind the heel). At the time, this shoe was the most expensive in the shop, around £250 in 1984, equivalent to £1000 today.

After spending about two hours with Mr Dray and returning to the car, Mom was both happy I got the job and unhappy for having to wait for me without knowing what was taking so long.

These mixed emotions transferred to me as happiness and anxiety, throughout my employment at R&B. My work colleagues were a wonderful mix, ranging from elder and younger sister types to the outrageous. Other than the manager, I was the only male employee.

Our employment rewarded us with an hourly rate plus a percentage of sales commission. I had not considered the pressure weekly sales targets would have on me. It was calculated using the performance of the store for the same week in the previous year plus a mark up and divided between the number of employees working.

Other incentives included, ends of lines having a ‘spiff’ sticker attached to the box. The colour translated to a one-off £ value paid in addition to commission.

Every person entering the emporium was a prospect who should not be allowed to leave until a purchase had been made. If they were interested in slippers, it was expected, we introduce a matching handbag, polish, shoe trees, signing up for a store card, boots, shoes; you get the picture.

Whilst I had experienced the need to perform at school and college through achieving the requisite grades to graduate, sales was and still is an anathema to me. Anything more than charming, chatting, and cheering on when I disagree with what I am doing leads to poor performance. A completed store card application that passed credit checking earned £1 for the sales assistant and potentially a life of debt for the shopper. In the six months or so I spent at R&B, I did not once achieve my sales target.

Today, I am surprised by my naivety of not thinking things through before jumping headlong into them. In hindsight, I learn through failure by picking myself up and trying something new.

Back to the happy times at R&B, through the ladies collection, my eyes were opened to a world of coloured leathers including, navy, white, cerise, Capri, taupe, chocolate, salmon, raspberry, lemon, lime, emerald, ruby, claret, sapphire, opal, silver, gold, bronze. The men’s mainstay of black and brown occasionally branched out into silver or mid grey, tan and, blue.

I used every opportunity to try on ladies and men’s shoes that took my fancy. I fell into the role of clown, parading around the stock rooms, much to the delight of my coworkers.

We purchased our own uniforms. Males wore a suit with shirt and tie. My female counterparts an outfit selected by the floor supervisor, a tall slim, Miss Dixon. It changed twice per year and did not suit all body shapes.

A condition of our service was the wearing of a pair of ‘shop shoes’ from the company’s range for six months. They were not allowed to leave the premises. Our bags were checked every time we went out. We paid a quarter of the retail price. I chose a £100 pair of tan Moreschi tasselled half brogue loafers with a grosgrain vamp.

During my time there, I attended a course on fitting children’s shoes in Norwich at the Startrite factory so that I could assist during busy back to school periods.

My work mate, Tracey ‘ace face’ Melling ran the children’s department on the mezzanine. Outside work, a goth with backcombed hair, ripped black clothing, and black, white, and purple makeup. Each day, Tracey drew on eyebrows after arriving late to work. I still smile at the thought of the surprised faces of children and parents looking at Tracey without eyebrows or with only one drawn on.

Tracey was hugely creative. During a quiet period, Tracey drew pencil sketches of pigs wearing R&B shoes on the back of Clarks packing labels. I was gifted with the sketches which I copied to paint corresponding watercolours.

I began at R&B during the period of the Autumn/Winter uniform of black skirt and dark raspberry blouse.

Spring/Summer followed, Capri skirt with blouse of splodges of blue, pink, and green.

Fully utilising a 25% discount, my shoe collection grew to include leather soled and lined canvas shoes in two tone blue and in fawn; polished burgundy, black, dark brown, and dark fawn suede brogues, tan boxer boots, the list goes on. Only the Moreschis remain.