Too Heavy For My Heels

Picture this:  It's really dark, almost ten o'clock. You're going down the steps, leaving from a Circus show at the auditorium in King Hussain Park, holding your daughter's hand, trying to make an early departure. Kids are cold and tired, your son is actually sleeping in your husband's arms, and you decide it would be wiser to leave before the stampede begins. You're feeling your way around, being extra careful not to step on anyone, when you feel something under your foot, and fear to have crushed someone's hand bag. You pull yourself away, only to realize that this thing is moving with your foot, and it's nothing other than the platform of your 12 cm heel hanging by a thin line to the rest of the heel, and bending under your shoe. You did not know you were coming here, so did not wear practical shoes, and did not get jackets for kids. Your car is parked really really far away, people are walking around you in huge packs, and you can't even let go of your daughter's hand to try and fix things because you will certainly lose sight of her..there is no way you are walking barefoot, and also no way you limp your way to the car with that heavy chunk bending under your foot, so what do you do.....sticky one, no?

I was furious, but can't say surprised, because, well, I'm no stranger to shoe-catastrophe;

Flash Back to May 2007:

We're in Frankfurt Airport, waiting for our connection to Madrid. It's around 6 a.m, and between last minute packing and my permanent unease during flights, I haven't slept a wink. We were dragging ourselves around,fighting drowsiness and fatigue, when we came across these moving conveyor belts: Ya3ni, it's all so simple, why walk when you could be carried around? As soon as my foot touched the belt, it started moving, BACKWARDS..I stepped on the wrong one!!
Last May was a cold month, and I was still wearing boots then..9cm-heel boots to be specific! As expected, my heel got stuck in the conveyor belt edge and broke, in a split second. No big deal, I thought to myself, they WERE newish boots, but I wasn't going to destroy a long-awaited vacation lamenting over broken heels, I 'll just lean on my husband's shoulder and limp my way around the airport till I find a place to buy a new pair. Now, try walking on a 9cm heel in one foot, and a flat shoe with four nails sticking out of it in the other!  With every step I took, the nails stabbed a bit too deeper in my heel, but that's OK, I thought,I should be able to buy something in no time.

But shops are closed, and won't open till seven. And I had to find myself something soon because it was pretty tiring walking around, just trying to find a place to sit. I did not need anything fancy..This time, I had quite a bit of shoes in my bag, I just needed something to get me to Madrid, and it's not like I was going there on foot..A pair of hotel slippers could have been useful for me at this time, and yet, there was nothing around to help me. The only place that was open was the pharmacy, and we even tried there hoping to find a pair of Dr. Scholl's slippers or something, but they had none. My foot was getting swollen from all that pressure, so we sat down at the first restaurant and had a nice German breakfast that did compensate to my dismay. Finally, it was seven o'clock..but need I remind you we were in Frankfurt Airport..and what do you find in Frankfurt airport, being one of the world's richest cities? Escada, Boss, Bally? You name it, but certainly nothing you could buy just to make do!! Nothing bugged more than that pair of  black Bally ballerina flats that cost 350 euros, while being an exact copy of the flats I took off right before leaving to the airport when I decided I looked better in boots, and that I 'd bought in Amman for less than 20 euros. ..I decided if  I'm buying something from there, it had better be something that I will be wearing time and again, and not just for a two-hour flight. And it's then that I started getting picky..My husband was urging me to buy the first shoe that fit, and the problem is that my feet were already too swollen, and nothing would fit properly..I also found it absurd to be spending over 250 euros when I really did not need a new pair of shoes. In any other situation, I would be ecstatic to over indulge myself, but this was a necessity, and somehow did not have this thrill to it. After going around all the shops in the terminal, the wisest choice I was left with was either a pair of Marco Polo sandals, or a pair of Nike trainers for around 100 euros, but I am really not that sort of girl..they would be lying in my closet for ever!! Well, eventually , and not a minute too soon, a shop just opened that had a small selection of shoes, but one of them was a cute pair of bronze sandals that I could certainly make use of, and that were a bit more affordable than the rest..It's true my feet were flowing over the sides during that flight, but as soon as they went back to their normal size, the sandals fit perfectly, and that was a happy ending for my shoe catastrophe.

Another Flash Back to November 2005:

Rushing out of a nine o'clock meeting, and running down the stairs to get to my car and catch my eleven o'clock meeting , my foot sinks in the floor, and I assume I just stepped into a hole or something, only to realize that it's my heel. What do I do? I hate being late for meetings, but this one I had to be extra punctual, because we were designing a building for an ex- prime minister and I really did not want to look stupid coming in late to this meeting, but did I have a choice? My boss had arranged for the meeting, but wasn't going to come along, and I had no number to call and inform them that I would be late. What did I do? I had to take my chances, and stop at the first shoe shop, buy the first black shoe that seemed to match, ignore how loose it felt around the toes, and just rush to the meeting. Luckily enough, ex-prime ministers obviously don't really care about being punctual in their meetings with me as much as I do!! and His Excellency did not show up to his office till half an hour later. He did, however, call his secretary and ask her to inform me he was running late...I have never been this tolerant to being left to wait before.

So, what is it with me and shoes? I am really not sure..am I too heavy for my heels? I might be, but I don't think I'm ready to give up the high heel glory..not just yet!

Oh! And if you're wondering how I managed in the park? I just had my hair up in a pony tail, so I used the hair band to hold the platform in place for a while..a few steps along the way, I had to borrow my daughter's hairband too..but I made it eventually!


July 2007