I found myself laughing out loud whilst reminiscing and therefore decided to share some of my old stories with all of you as I remember them. I will be calling these postings my "flashback stories".
Way back in 1998 I was at college completing my business studies. I had a nice bunch of female friends back then and we used to make a game out of looking great each Friday. This served two purposes. The first was to have a little competition amongst ourselves to see who was the best dressed, and the second was to look good for our Friday night clubbing sessions, which normally started just a few hours after our daily classes came to an end.
One Friday I decided to wear these stunning black stiletto heels I had in the back of my cupboard. I remember putting them on and feeling very chuffed with how great they made my legs look (even though I was wearing a pair of jeans). I added a nice black halter-neck top, did my hair into a nice up style and applied far too much make-up (which was the norm still in the 90's). Once satisfied with my overall look, I grabbed my bag and off to class I went.
The weather was miserable and gloomy that day and when I got to school I was just grateful that it hadn't started raining yet. Can you imagine walking on wet paving and wet raw cement in high heels? Well I couldn't so I considered the dry ground a blessing.
Anyhow, my friends started arriving and although they all looked great, they didn't have a chance at beating me. I was confident that I had won the weekly contest hands down until my last friend arrived. She looked absolutely stunning, wearing a long white vintage lace top and black leggings. We all decided on the spot that she looked the best and that she was going to "rock" at the clubs that night. Then, with our weekly winner decided on, we all went to class.
The day went quite well until around 11 am, when I started having difficulty walking up and down the stairs (to my different classes) in the stiletto's. Suddenly the difficulty walking turned into agonising leg and foot pain which worsened with each step I took. In a flash the reason I kept those shoes hidden in the back of my cupboard all came back to me - they were torture devices!
Now since there was no way I would ruin my reputation by walking barefoot I decided to try and walk as normal as possible when someone was close enough to see me. As luck would have it, half the school decided to use the stairways and passages I was using. It was total torture!
At 2 pm our classes had ended for the day and we all grouped outside for a smoke. The sun decided to come out behind the clouds at that point and shine at its brightest just as my friend who was wearing the gorgeous lace top came walking out of the building. It took me half a second in the bright light to notice how see-through her top was. Not only that, but the sheer white camisole she was wearing underneath it was just as see-through, meaning that you could see more than just her pretty face.
Before I could call out to her, a gathering of boys started to appear (from out of nowhere it seemed), staringly. She was enjoying the attention though, oblivious to the actual reason for the attention (just assuming it was her great look of the day attracting it).
My protective instincts then kicked in and over shadowed my better judgement. Before even thinking about the fact that I was wearing those awful shoes (and that my feet and legs were in agony), I ran on the now wet paving (from earlier rain) towards her, planning to cover her up and inform her quietly of the free show she was providing. Only it did not play out that way.
Before I reached her I slipped and twisted my ankle which caused me to lunge forward, grabbing and ripping her top in the process, as well as tearing my jeans between the legs. Everyone (and I really mean everyone), came running towards us to see what happened.
Then as luck would have it, it started to rain again. There we were, standing in front of everyone with torn clothing, wet hair and messed make-up. Lucky for us one sweet kid gave my friend his t-shirt and another gave me a raincoat that I could drape around myself (as a skirt). The embarrassment we endured was completely and utterly agonising though!
Luckily I had just sprained my ankle that day and everyone at school felt so bad for us that there was no gossiping or joking about the incident (well none that we heard of at least). I never wore those shoes again (but still have them for nostalgic reasons) and she never ever wore lace again.
Just goes to show that looks really can kill!
Edit: Rereading this posting I think it is fitting to add the following. University (or any educational institution) is not the place for a “fashion show”. Yes it is important to look great and feel good about yourself, but it is honestly not functional to dress as if the paparazzi is going to appear out of nowhere to photograph you. You are there (at the institution) to study/learn and dressing comfortably makes much more sense than looking as if you are trying to get on the cover of a magazine. I wish I had the sense back then to rather wear slacks and tennis shoes. Sure I wouldn’t have looked very “hot”, but at least I would have been able to walk up and down stairs and sit comfortably on chairs.