Warning: the post contains large amount of vanity which could lead to migraine, nausea, or even diarrhea. You have been warned.
Too much love will kill you, according to Queen. In my case, it didn’t kill me, but it’s enough to hurt me. Literally, mentally, and physically.
Yesterday I had an appointment with other ladies. I was in between-hair wash day, and sporting a new, much shorter hairdo, which sadly will look like a lump if it is not styled, I had no other choice but to pull it into a ponytail, but I thought it would be brilliant to tease the roots to have some volume at the crown, similar like picture on the left.
I was proud of the result of my own creation, but I didn’t have much time to admire my own reflection in the mirror because I was running late. Since the weather has become unpredictable again, I couldn’t wear my sandals so I grabbed the closest pair of shoes, which look similar to the picture on the right – except mine are plain black – and headed into the town. Pay attention to the shoes because they were going to play a big part soon in this story.
On my way there, I kept checking on myself in the row of parked car windows. Yes, here comes the vanity part. I was shamelessly admiring my work of art on my own head.
The shoes, I must say, felt quite high. But I was super confident because 1) I am very used to high heels, I could walk on 14 cm high stilettos better than on ballerina flat shoes, 2) I have worn the shoes in London, where I had to walk a lot, chasing buses and tubes, which for me a testament that the shoes are good for walking, and 3) they are wedges, which, theoretically, give more support than spikey heels.
Feeling like I was in my element, I crossed the road hurriedly and turned to Union Street, which bans off-street parking. Since I couldn’t check myself on the car windows, I glanced on each shop, pretending I was looking into their displays, but actually I was looking at my reflection in the window. I just passed Starbucks, and suddenly, in split second, I tripped over!
I successfully was on my hands and knees, and OH! they hurt like hell because they just met the cold pavement. Just like any other part of the town, the sidewalk in Union Street area is not completely flat, and I didn’t realise the particular block I stepped on was not the same height as the other ones. And because I didn’t pay attention to what’s in front of me and was too busy looking at my reflection in the mirror, I twisted my ankle, lost my balance altogether, and found myself plunging forward and kissed the ground.
There were lots of people around me when it happened. All of them were staring at me, wondering if I was drunk and how the hell I could fell down on a rather flat pavement! I couldn’t savour the pain because the embarrassment took over quickly and I had to get away from the spot, pronto! So red-faced, I got up quickly with rather wobbly knees and walked away.
I, of course, blame it on the shoes.
This isn’t the first I fell down in public. In Fall From Grace I fell down a fire staircase and my bottom landed on a concrete steps on the process. Not only that I did it in front of my team – whom I was supposed to lead and had to be a role model for – but the reason why I miscalculated my steps was because the cute French guy who was climbing the staircase gave me a smile when we brushed shoulders in a narrow flight seconds before that!! I was grateful though, that I didn’t flash my G-string and kept my skirt intact and I didn’t break my poor black stilettos.
Moral of the story: if you were that vain like me, make sure you wear proper shoes!
Related article: Fall From Grace (1)