A letter from a reader

At 62, every pair of trousers I own dragged on the ground since I gave up heels

I have never written to a shop before, and I did not expect my first letter to be about trainers.

I gave up heels about seven years ago. Sensible, everybody said, and I agreed. What nobody mentioned is that every pair of trousers I owned had been bought and taken up for a woman two inches taller than the one now wearing them. Overnight they all dragged. The backs of the hems went grey and frayed, they soaked up every puddle on the way to the shops, and I spent my days hitching them up and folding them over and promising myself I would take the lot to the alterations lady.

My whole wardrobe had been hemmed for a woman I no longer was.

So I rolled them up, and stood on the backs of them, and told myself it did not matter.

Then I saw them on a friend in the post office queue

Carol was in front of me in a pair of crisp white trainers with a thin gold stripe down the side, and her good navy trousers sat exactly where they should, just kissing the top of her shoes. She is no taller than me. I looked down at her feet and saw why: there is a little wedge hidden inside the sole, so you get your two inches back without a heel. She told me they were the Monisha, from Nottingham Boutique, a little boutique that has been quietly dressing women our age for a few years now. I ordered mine that evening.

What happened on the walk into town

I put on my best navy trousers, the ones that had been folded at the back of the wardrobe for two years because they were too long, and walked into town in the drizzle. They sat just right. Three different women asked me about the trainers, and my friend Sue told me I looked like I had made an effort, which I have decided to take as a compliment. I came home and the hems were still clean.

It is a small thing, a pair of trousers the right length. I had forgotten how much smarter it makes you feel.

Three things I have learned since

One. The lift is hidden. From the outside they look like a smart pair of trainers. The extra height is tucked inside the sole, rising towards the heel, so you get your inches back without the wobble of a heel.

Two. They look like you meant it. Smooth white leather-look, a neat panel of little perforations on the side and a slim gold stripe. Smart enough for lunch in town, easy enough for a long walk.

Three. The sole is a proper one. It is thick and grippy, so on wet leaves and pavements I feel steady rather than careful.

About the price

I had assumed I would be paying for a dozen trips to the alterations lady instead.

The Monisha is £32.95. It was £66.

There is no catch. They have their autumn sale on and delivery is free. Mine are white, and they also come in blush pink, tan, grey and beige, from a UK 2 right up to a UK 8.5.

I did go and read the reviews before I ordered. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.2 stars. Not the suspiciously perfect five you see on some sites, which if I am honest made me trust it more. One woman had written, "I have unpacked three pairs of trousers I had given up on. They are the right length again." That was the one that decided it for me.

What I would tell you if we were friends

If you came round and we sat out on the porch with a cup of tea, this is what I would tell you.

Before you take every pair of trousers you own to be shortened, change the shoes instead. It is cheaper, it is quicker, and you get to feel a little bit taller while you are at it.

It does not look like it was made for somebody half my age, and it does not look like I have given up either.

Caroline