It always happens, it’s actually the fundamental cornerstone of Sods Law; when you start to come down with a cold you only actually have three tissues left, and it’s at that point you have to ask yourself the ultimate question, toilet roll or kitchen roll? That Ladies and Gentlemen is my dilemma this evening, that and I couldn’t decide which shoes to talk about next so I plumped to go through the camera roll on my iPhone and use the next pair after the YSL numbers. It was a decision by default, like most peoples lives.
So here they are, one of the few times I’ve hopped on the “fashion shoe bus”. What can I say? These, or let’s be fair, something like these, looked great on SJP*. Remember that summer a few years back when the ‘cage shoe’ was all the rage, when petite ladies chose to make themselves look even stumpier? Yep, I bought a ticket for that bus ride. Perhaps if I’d had the balls to wear shorter, tighter skirts then they may have looked better on me. But there again, if I’d had balls we wouldn’t have wanted the skirt to be too short now would we?
Amazingly enough for an online purchase these are pretty comfortable shoes, obviously the burning, screaming neuroma agony aside. I remember the first time I wore these; it was the night I’d travelled to Belfast for a wedding that was taking place two days later, a couple of hours drive away from Belfast on Lusty Beg Island…..yes that really was the name of the wedding venue, I kid ye not, check it out http://www.lustybegisland.com/
So the evening before the drive out to the venue we went to a friend’s club night in Belfast, a cracking place called Mono (www.monobelfast.com) and I wore the SJP Cage shoes. Big mistake. Huge. Cataclysmic. Monumental.
It appears that the floor of this place had a special reaction to the soles of said shoes and I spent much of the evening like bambi on ice. Dancing was an altogether fresh and unique experience whilst holding on to a handrail around the dj booth. It was a classy look I’d got going on I can tell you, thankfully I wasn’t on the pull as all I’d have gone home with that night was a dude on a zimmer. A trip to the toilet reminded me of the slalom on Ski Sunday as there was a slight slope down from the dancefloor…..I clearly didn’t drink enough to remember things in quite so much detail, but thankfully this did mean that a trip to Belfast’s A&E wasn’t on the cards and I do have a habit of going ‘arse over tit’ in nightclubs. There was the time at Renaissance in Nottingham when I fractured my elbow and then there were the cracked ribs in Cardiff but they’re different stories.
Yes, the shoes were testing me that evening. I wanted to be cool and as all the marketing companies desperate to peddle their grotty wares to us these days would say, ‘bang on trend’. But I didn’t quite make it thanks to the slippery little buggers and their insistence that I spend the entire evening looking like a contestant on ‘It’s a Knockout’.
The second and last time I wore them was an altogether incredibly dull event compared to the first time. I stayed upright, didn’t look like I was doing any kind of winter sports and took them off at the end of the night thinking to myself, ‘they’re a tad high if I’m going to do the Great North Run this year…..’
And they were. Because I did, in just over 2 hours.
*Sarah Jessica Parker – The clotheshorse from SATC**
**Sex and the City
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