A couple of years ago I invested in a very expensive pair of Christian Louboutins, (I say invest because it sounds better then wasted my inheritance) after cutting pictures of them out of magazines and sticking them all over my bedroom in the vain hope that someone would get the hint (they didn’t). My mum was aghast at the price I paid, but I assured her they would ‘last forever’ and that they were ‘timeless’, two terms I had recently acquired from Vogue.
Available at LUISAVIAROMA.COM
Unfortunately, coming from a small country village in the north of England, the surrounding terrain (as you may expect) isn’t exactly Louboutin friendly. But then I expect Christian himself did not have cow pats and cobbles in mind when we lovingly designed his red soled beauties.
On their first outing I decided to wear them for drinks with friends in the local town. Now there is one thing you should understand about my local town, it is NOTHING like Dubai, it is a northern city where when going out you should really be prepared for any weather eventuality. Getting ready for a night out is like a military operation. Flats (in case you have to walk miles for a taxi, they are not ten a penny in my home town) umbrella (in case of rain, sleet, snow, projectile kebab vomit) cardigan (imperative! Even in July and August you NEVER know when there might be rain) hairbrush (wind, rain, over exuberant friends who want to hug off your head) the list is endless, and it all has to be carried around in a MASSIVE clutch bag (which can also double as a rain shield should you have forgotten your umbrella).
So anyway I decided to wear the Louboutin’s. Tanned (fake) up to the nines, I met my friends and showed off the shoes. Beautiful, nude, suede with tiny diamonds circled around the toes, they were night time perfection and paired with my favourite dress I felt great.
Around the ten thirty mark was when the rain started, and the thing about northern rain is that when it starts you know that’s in for the night (or sometimes week) but the girls and I knew we’d have to brave it and change location at some point. I groaned as looking like a drowned rat hadn’t been on my agenda. “Come on lets go now, it looks like it’s started to ease off a bit.” Said one of the girls, so cardigan wrapped tightly around me and clutch bag positioned perfectly atop my head, we headed out into the open…
Laughing, we tumbled into the next venue it was several minutes before I looked down at my feet but when I did, devastation had befallen my beauties. The tan that had been so carefully applied a few hours early was now running down my legs and seeping into my perfect shoes, forming pools around my ankles. Mud (from I don’t know where) had flicked up onto the diamonds and they looked more like dull stones, and don’t get me started on the red soles! My night (and life) was literally over, I could not go on. My friends tried to console me but it was no use, the loss was too hard to take.
To this day the suede is still stained with my fake tan and the gorgeous gold lettering inside is still streaked brown. In fact, I find the devastation of them so hard to bare that after wrapping them in tissue I have never worn them since, and will never take Louboutin to my home town again.
Dubai on the other hand? Well there is no rain here…better invest in a new pair!