Fashion

WEAR YOUR HEELS? THEN YOU UNDERSTAND THIS MISERY

Life is about falling and getting up. You know it, I know it. Why the aspect of FALLING always has to come at the moment when you have beautiful new shoes on is a mystery to me. I will take you along in my misery of this morning.

Every morning I walk to the station. That's quite a distance in heels, so I shuffle to the train in flats, after which the Great Shoe Switch takes place at the office. Call me a pussy, but really, my feet (and heels that especially don't want to stand on dirty stations) are grateful to me. This morning was different. Intern Jennifer and I are at the station. To take photos for a post. Hell no, I’m not getting my picture taken in my ugly leopard flats, so the switch took place on the platform. I took out my brand new Dolce & Gabanna pumps, which I recently saw at May and absolutely had to have, from the dust bag, we take some photos and then we hurry to catch the metro. Jen in her white Vans, I in a powder pink pump with ‘je t’aime, maman’ on the toes.

‘Just a few seconds to go, I make a final sprint and suddenly I fly half over the platform while my shoe is stuck IN THE GROUND.’

I would love to have a slow-motion video showing how I try to run in heels. Give me a bucket of popcorn and I’ll be entertained for the evening. Okay, just a few seconds left before that crappy metro leaves us, I make a final sprint and suddenly I fly half over the platform while my shoe is stuck IN THE GROUND. Crying. At that moment, I couldn't care less about the metro, with great dismay I look at my left little Dolce that is stuck with its slender heel between the gap of a sidewalk tile. Jen understands the misery all too well. Even a female bystander asks if she should get help when I lament that it’s only the first time I’m wearing that f*cking shoe. For 30 seconds we helplessly stare at the pink candy, then we carefully pull on the heel. Stuck and stuck. Panic sets in. Because we can somewhat see the hilarity of this situation, we also capture the little pile of misery. We’re already too late anyway.

The damage? The bottom of the heel is pretty much wrecked. And how ironic, May is on the first day, with precisely the same pump gigantically flown out street (yes flared jeans, we’re looking angrily your way). Is it a coincidence? Are we cursed? Is this our punishment for buying too expensive footwear? They were still on sale. Someone, please, figure it out, tell me. Then I’ll race quickly to the cobbler (aka intensive care) to save my little ones.