Plimsolllover's diary

Plimsolllover

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Rather than have lots of individual threads running on this board I thought I would set up a single continuous thread and include in it all my sightings, ruminations and imaginations. I've shut down my private blog and over the next few days I'll transfer some choice items to here, where I trust they will be appreciated and enjoyed a lot more. :icon_wink

All the best
Plimsolllover

Here's today's entry. I hope you enjoy it.

Seen from a distance

I was only half-way up the side street when I saw her briefly as she crossed over the main road at the top. But even at that distance I was sure she was wearing white plimsolls. From the brief glimpse I'd got of her I could tell she was a fast walker and I knew I had to get to the top and round the corner as fast as I could so I didn't lose sight of her up ahead. It felt far too long before I finally reached the top but when I did and looked along the main road I was relieved to see that she was stuck at a pedestrian crossing and I could catch up with her. I appraised her as I drew nearer. She was medium height and slim, with dark hair heavily tinted in goldeny blonde and drawn back in a short pony tail. She wore a tan raincoat, loose black leggings full-length over dark blue socks and worn but clean white Keds lace-up knock-offs. As I came closer she absent-mindedly lifted her left leg and rested her pointed foot on the ground and swayed her foot from side to side a couple of times in a sensual kind of way. We crossed together on the green light and I enjoyed my proximity to her for a moment. Knowing she was a fast walker like me I hoped I'd be able to follow her for a while. But after a few steps she slowed down and looked around while changing direction a couple of times as if she was looking for something or someone, so I had to walk on. I crossed to the other side of the road and looked back but she was gone. I was disappointed not to be able to see more of her, but the pursuit had been fun.
 
Re: Plimsolllover's diary

Here's an older post from my old blog. Sometimes when I describe a girl in her plimsolls I also like to make up a little story about her. I hope you like this example. :icon_wink

Friday, 8 February 2008

A tantalising flash of white

Walking down crowded steps I see amidst the tangle of ascending legs that elctrifying first flash of white feet that arrests my vision and quickens my pulse. White lace-ups, well-worn but still tidy-looking, with black tights! Wonderful! Only a second before we share the same step. Just time for a quick sideways glance. She's pretty: long straight dark hair dyed a subtle dark red resting on the shoulders of her coat that covers her skirt but displays her slim legs for my approbation. Dark eyes and a small and very kissable mouth highlighted in dark red lipstick are set in a pale long face framed in the dark curtains of her hair. Then she is gone and I cannot look back to drink in her image in the glass of my admiration.

Such fleeting glimpses are frustrating but they have their compensations. They suggest a story that my imagination can attempt to fill in. I continue to think of her through the day. Maybe she's a student. Maybe she sat at a table in a lecture room or a library, her legs crossed, unselfconsciously - or perhaps consciously - pumping her leg up and down and flexing and rotating her white-plimsolled foot to keep up her concentration, or just for the pleasure of the movement and the sight of it. Perhaps at some point during the day she reached up to a high shelf, raising her heels to stand on demi-pointe as the white canvas of her plimsolls folded and stretched around the changing shapes of her feet. She might have met her boyfriend and the same fascinating process repeated itself as she reached up to kiss him in his embrace. They could have sat next to eachother while she nudged his foot with her plimsoll. Or she could have nestled on his lap, her thighs cushioning onto him through her tights as she flexed her slender legs and shapely ankles to stroke his legs with her plimsolled insteps as they kissed long and languidly and filled eachother's vision with their eyes. I wonder if he likes her to wear them? I wonder if she wears them when she's naked with him.....?
 
Re: Plimsolllover's diary

No time to stop

I arrive at the station. The train's due to leave at any moment. There's a queue at the only working ticket barrier. Someone ahead of me decides to use the swing gate and I follow. As I rush for the bridge that leads to the platform my vision briefly registers a slim dark-haired girl in a smart corduroy jacket and dark blue skinny jeans I catch a split-second glance at her feet in clean black lace-up plimsolls. I hope she'll head for my train as well and we can share a carriage but instead she turns away to the train information board and I have no time to linger. What frustration! Plimsoll watching can't be done in a hurry; it needs time to be enjoyed to the full.
 
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Re: Plimsolllover's diary

Nature watching

Like most of us I usually steer well clear of 'chuggers', those impossibly cheery and matey young lads and lasses who leap out at you as you're walking along the street minding your own business and attempt to persuade you to sign up to donate large amounts of dosh on a regular basis to good causes. If they're that good why don't they offer me some? But this lunchtime I was able to observe a young female of the species in action from behind the safety of a café window while I enjoyed my coffee and jam doughnut.

She was Middle Eastern/Indian/Pakistani in appearance. Medium-height and carrying a bit of extra flesh all round, with straight dark hair in a shoulder-length bob around her rounded face. She wore a long tee-shirt with the charity's logo on it and loose-fitting black leggings on her shortish and somewhat chunky legs. Her attire was finished off with thick, short white socks stuffed into her worn white Keds-style lace-up plimsolls.

She wasn't the most attractive of girls but there was something quite compelling and exciting in the way she stalked up and down the street in her plimsolls on the prowl for fresh victims. To my mind, pretty girls in plimsolls give off a kind of aura or image of sweetness, innocence and vulnerability - which for me is a large part of the appeal of pretty girls in plimsolls; but the way this girl was patrolling the pavement was positively predatory.

If I was in the habit of signing up to give away sizeable chunks of my income every month I might have gone up to her for the pleasure of making her acquaintance. But the higher claims of self-preservation and my bank balance led me to decide otherwise. I paid my tab and made my escape while she was at the other end of the street.
 
Re: Plimsolllover's diary

Sweet innocence? There is an English girl who was active on Yahoo plimsoll groups who loved wearing plimsolls and Dunlop Green Flash (a heavier grade canvas shoe). She knew perfectly well that the sight of her in plimsolls turned some guys on and she loved the thought of that. Here are a few pics she posted some years ago.
 
Re: Plimsolllover's diary

Thanks, Netking30. I'll have to get my VIP membership to see them. They'll be nice to look forward to.

Here's another vintage post from my old blog. I hope you enjoy it.

A different kind of beauty

She was sauntering idly past the shop windows. A little shorter than average and comfortably in the cuddly band of the overweight spectrum; peroxide hair hanging down straight to her shoulders; doe eyes and button nose on a moon face. She wore the light grey hoodie and the tight black jeans fastened with the wide silver studded belt that she practically lived in. “I don’t give a toss if my bum looks big!” Her white lace-up plimsolls had plain canvas uppers without toe caps and thin moulding around the soles which had a slightly pointed profile around the toes. they were still clean and unmarked. She might have bought them for a fiver at a market stall the other week. I imagine that to try them on she had to balance on each of her sturdy legs in turn to pull them onto her feet. Inside her pale blue towelling socks the shocking pink nail polish on her stubby toes nearly matched the shade of her thong just visible in the band of flesh exposed by her unselfconscious bending over and which stretched to span the generous expanse of her midriff. She was, somehow, beautiful.
 
Re: Plimsolllover's diary

Opps - forgot to post the two pics I said I would, Also another four pics of girls in 'Green Flash'.
 

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Re: Plimsolllover's diary

Thanks very much Netking. I'm looking forward to getting my VIP membership so I can enjoy your photos. It's good to know that, as well as great photos, there is room on this site for descriptive and imaginative writing too. I get as much pleasure from imagining a lovely girl in plimsolls as I read a description of her as I do from seeing a photo of her. I hope I can encourage other members to share more of your experiences and thoughts as well.

Here's this weekend's diary update

Pleasure and frustration

I have learned that pleasure and frustration are nearly always experienced in almost equal measure in the life of a devotee of beautiful girls in plimsolls. There is the pleasure of the first sight of a lovely girl in her plimsolls followed by the pleasure of appreciating what makes her beautiful and the anticipation of being able to enjoy the sight of her for at least a little while. But there is also the frustration felt when our paths diverge and at what is not seen.

I experienced two cases in point on Friday evening. First there was the pleasure of changing trains and finding myself sitting opposite a beautiful oriental girl wearing a dark woollen coat and dark blue jeans that nicely showed her feet in dark blue socks and black lace-up plimsolls with the narrow smooth rubber toe caps that cover just the ends of the toes. She sat with her eyes closed looking beautifully peaceful and I hoped I would be able to enjoy contemplating her for a few stops. But after only a moment she opened her eyes and - frustration - she got off at the very next stop.

Second, I exited my station with several minutes to spare before I was due to be picked up, and standing outside the entrance were two very pretty girls both wearing light grey cardigans unbuttoned to show brightly coloured vest tops and light blue skinny jeans nicely showing their feet in white socks and white Keds-style lace-up plimsolls. One of the girls was tall and willowy with long straight blonde hair with a flick fringe nicely framing her long, finely-featured face. The other girl was dark haired and shorter and not as pleasingly proportioned but nevertheless still a very nice-looking girl. I remained standing at the entrance knowing I had several minutes before I had to go to the car park to meet my pick-up and hoped they would stay there too. But they walked off in the opposite direction to the car park - frustration again!

Things went more my way yesterday. I was in a queue of cars slowly advancing towards a pedestrian crossing. Waiting to cross was a very attractive girl with long dark hair in a pony tail, wearing a black oversize tee-shirt top over grey sweat shorts, ankle-length black leggings and her bare feet in black lace-up plimsolls. Just as I reached the crossing the lights changed to red and I had a lovely grandstand view of her elegantly graceful long-legged saunter across the road. She even threw in an imperious toss of her head as she reached the other side of the road. What a performance!

Mind you, staying alert also helps. This morning I was strolling along lost in my own thoughts and vaguely aware of a young woman ahead of me smartly dressed for the office in a black jacket with a gathered in waist and a long black skirt. It wasn't until I got right up to her and happened to glance at her feet that I saw she had completed her smart outfit with old black lace-up plimsolls without toe caps so worn that the rubber trim was separating from the canvas uppers.

Hope you're all having a great day
Plimsolllover
 
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Re: Plimsolllover's diary

Here's another vintage item from my old blog. Hope you enjoy it and have a great day, everybody.

Monday, 11 February 2008

Shall we go for a walk?

She had just finished washing up after her Sunday lunch when her two best mates called round to see if she wanted to come for a walk. As they lounged on her grandmother’s hand-me-down three-piece suite she loped up the stairs two at a time in her gauche, girlish and slightly gawky way to her bedroom. Her new white lace-up plimsolls, laces neatly folded inside them, rested on the shoe rack between her old trainers and her Timberland boots. Through the window she caught sight of the houses across the street bright in the sunlight and on a sudden impulse snatched up her plimsolls and plonked herself down on the edge of her bed to slip her long slim feet first into a pair of white socks and then carefully pulled on her plimsolls.

She had bought them only yesterday and was looking forward to showing them off to her friends. She had intended to buy new trainers but when she saw the pure whiteness of the plimsolls gleaming in the shop lighting she suddenly had a vision of herself. She was reclining in the back of a punt gliding along the Cam past King's College, propelled along by her new boyfriend as he gazed admiringly down on her while she toyed with her wine glass and let the fingertips of her other hand dip lightly in the cool water. She wore her broad brimmed straw hat and her Laura Ashley summer dress that showed off her tall slim figure and her long willowy legs so nicely. And she saw her bare feet in those white plimsolls languidly making little circles with her toes and she just knew she had to have them because, after all, it's the details that count.

'Happy and in love on a sunny Sunday afternoon and with your best friends for company', she thought as she skipped downstairs to enjoy the chorus of 'Oh, they're really nice' and 'They make your feet look so pretty'. She slipped on her brown suede jacket which complemented her straight-leg cords. They laughed at a slightly naughty joke as they rounded the first corner and as she caught sight of her plimsolls brilliant in the sun as it began to warm her feet through the virgin canvas she began to skip.
 
Re: Plimsolllover's diary

Another one from the blog. Hope you enjoy it. :icon_bigg

Stranger on a train

It was the wrong train. As I stepped off I just had time to spot those unmistakable flashes of white on the ends of pretty legs in black tights as a girl got on the same train several coaches back towards the platform stairs. I walked to the coach and looked in. She was beautiful: long dark blonde hair framing a clasically pretty long face as it flowed down to her slender shoulders; wide, deep, hauntingly beautiful eyes above a finely proportioned nose and a lovely little rosebud mouth; slightly built and with her shapely legs crossed and a winsome look of concentration on her lovely face as she played with her iPod. Her clothes reinforced the image of a sensitive and shy young girl. She wore a black fisherman's style smock top with a soft woollen scarf patterned with autumnal browns and golds, a short dark blue denim skirt and, most wonderful, black tights and white slip-on plimsolls; several black scuffs marking the otherwise clean white canvas.

I didn't mind that it was the wrong train. It only meant a few minutes longer walk at the other end. I got in and sat opposite her a few seats away so I could glance at her as I worked. The fun is seeing for how long she remains visible as more people get on at each stop. First I had a clear view as she continued to play with her iPod. Then I could only see her feet and legs up to her knees. Then I didn's see her anymore. But she was still well worth the longer walk for the way she continued to stir my imagination after I saw her no more.....

She originally bought her white slip-on plimsolls to go with her costume for her final drama performance before she left sixth-form college to study Art. She thought they would go nicely with her white footless leggings she would also be wearing. Everyone who knew her said she could make a good go at acting or modelling if only she had more confidence. She had liked how she looked in her performance and had kept wearing them afterwards, especially after her boyfriend had said she looked really pretty when she wore them with her black tights.

This morning as she got ready for art college she glanced at herself in the mirror, dressed in just her pretty little white cotton briefs, and then on a a sudden impulse she sat on her bed and in the most sexy and provocative way she could imagine she rolled on and pulled up her black tights. She daintily slipped her pretty little feet into her white slip-on plimsolls and then drew herself back to sit fully on her bed, her elegently slender legs, tapering to her pretty ankles, stretched out in front of her. She raised her knees and pointed her feet to show her legs to their best advantage. She carefully cupped her lovely round little breasts in her finely featured hands and curled her slim fingers over her soft warm skin so that a slender finger tip rested lightly on each of her nipples, as for a moment she tossed her head from side to side and enjoyed the sensation of her warm, soft hair brushing and caressing the delicate curves of her neck, shoulders and back.

She sighed, got up and put on the rest of her clothes, fixed her hair and makeup, shouldered her bag and with her beautiful feet treading softly on each stair she headed downstairs. Her feet were a flicker of white as she skipped daintily off the doorstep onto the pathway. Then she stepped shyly into the road to catch her train.
 
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