Today's definition of 'Irony'

>> Monday, 24 March 2014

It was a beautiful day, today.  The sun was shining and not in Moscow's usual 'bright blue but minus 5degreesC' March kind of way, but in an 'Oh my god it's still March, but it's +18degC and I am TOTALLY wearing the wrong shoes to drop the kids off at school' kind of way.

So I hotfooted it (quite literally) home and changed out of my trusty Timberland knee-high boots and into a pair of ecco bowling shoes.

What I did not do - crucially - was change my thick winter socks.  So a couple of hours later I found myself yomping through the middle of town on a series of errands in shoes that were right for the day, but socks that were rubbing, chafing, generally giving me hell, and most definitely were not right for anything other than deepest darkest Russian winter.

This, dear reader, is a rather lengthy back story to give you some idea of why the following might have happened.

I had just exited one of the most beautiful stations on the Moscow Metro (and for anyone who has visited this city and taken public transport, you'll know that is no small claim) Mayakovskaya, and was walking up the stairs.

In front of me was a living, breathing example of what fellow Moscow blogger Jennifer Eremeeva calls 'The Banana Generation'.  6 foot tall, weighing no more than 8 stone, looking as if it wouldn't take more than a St Tropez gentle breeze to blow her over, this girl was dressed in high Russian style, with her never-ending legs on show in a micro-skirt and vertiginous heels.  And when I say 'vertiginous', I'm not talking about your run of the mill 4" numbers, no;  I am talking about 6" skyscrapers.

To say I was fascinated is an understatement.  These shoes were not designed to be worn in 'real life'.  They were designed to be worn between car and A-list restaurant, or between car and A-list nightspot.  Admittedly, Russians do love their heels - finding an attractive pair of shoes with heels below 3" is an almost impossible task - but 99% of this city's die-hard high heel wearers would normally balk at wearing such weapons of choice on the metro.  And I don't mind admitting that as someone who is not a natural high-heel wearer (in the same way that Victoria Beckham is not a natural bowling shoe wearer), I was impressed.   How the hell was she standing upright in these things?  In fact, never mind, standing up - how was she walking?  And even more importantly; what on earth was she going to do when she reached the stairs that were fast approaching?

Well.  Sadly, I can't tell you how Ms Banana Generation 2014 fared on the stairs.

Because, in a turn of events that will be no surprise to my nearest and dearest, I was so intrigued with watching her teetering along, that I - the flat, sensible shoe wearing one in this story - tripped and fell up the stairs myself.

Oh, the glamour...


Melissa 25 March 2014 at 05:51  

Hee Hee. Oh dear. Incidentally I am right with you on the need for flats. Heels are evil (apparently flats are too!)

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