Heights of embarrassment

Between the ages of 16 and 17, I grew by about six inches until I was the tallest student in my high school, not just the tallest girl, the tallest STUDENT period.

It was the early 1980s and girls were not supposed to be taller than boys. I felt like a freak. To make matters worse, I was flat-chested and had clunky braces on my teeth, both top and bottom.

"Hey Train Tracks, when's the next train coming?" was a popular tease as was, "Hey Lofty, what's the weather like up there?" or just plain old: "Why are you SO f*cking TALL?"

I'm not sure how it all happened. I'm taller than both my parents and my sister. My brother beats me by about three inches.

Must have been some rogue Viking genes in the mix I'm guessing but anyhow, that's why for such a long time, which just happened to coincide with the inevitable awkwardness of adolescence, I felt like an outsider.

It would have been easier if I'd been good at a tall-person sport, like basketball, but I was hopelessly uncoordinated and pretty much useless at anything physically competitive.

When I ran, my lower legs tended to flail out to the sides in a most ungainly way. An image of a demented ostrich fleeing a pride of hungry lions springs to mind.

I had a few friends and most of them were unusually short. We must have looked quite comedic in the school yard. In fact, that's the odd thing about being a "gentle giant", you tend to have a fondness for the petite.

Small cars, small animals and dainty clothes. Even small rock stars. Stevie Nicks was and still is my all-time favorite singer.

The most embarrassing moments occurred when I needed new shoes. You see my feet are VERY big. I was a size 11 (European 41) when there were NO women's shoes that size, at least not in my country bumpkin part of the Perth Hills.

Whenever I needed new shoes, Mum and I would inevitably be told: "We don't have anything in her size, maybe try the men's department."

Mortifying for a 16-year-old riddled with body insecurities. The men's shoe section? Really? No, I'll get by with my old shoes. The local cobbler did a thriving trade patching up my old Jesus sandals year after year.

Being so tall and a girl was actually seen as something to be fixed in those days, medically. I remember a doctor whispering to my mother that he could give me a series of hormone injections to, as he hissed "stunt my growth". Thankfully, she said no.

Anyway, onwards and upwards I went until I hit six feet, one-and-a-half inches and towered over my cohort.

Then ... something miraculous happened. My braces came off and I had the loveliest, straight, white teeth. School finished and I went away to university where I could re-invent myself to some degree.

My college "sisters" helped me with make-up and wardrobe, I got a perm and some blonde foils and "blossomed" as it were.

"Why are you so f*cking tall?" became "You look like Jerry Hall." Thank goodness for Jerry, one of the first supermodels and author of the aptly titled "Tall Tales".

Tall was suddenly "in" and I got a lot of positive attention. I felt good about my height and confident in my skin for the first time in my life.

There was nothing I loved more than gathering up my friends, of all shapes and sizes, into a bear hug. That's one of the best things about being tall. Having super-long arms means you can give the best hugs.