With Louis Vuitton leading the pointy fash pack this winter, and Victoria Beckham rocking her Proenza Schouler cap toes on an almost daily basis, I recently decided to invest in my own pointy pair. Dark burgundy (the new go to colour) with gold caps on the toes, I thought they would be perfect for pairing with this seasons ladylike look.
Now I don’t know if I have mentioned the fact that I ride, but being from the countryside it’s almost essential that you know how to ride a horse, and I have been riding since I was around 6. My horse is a big, black clumsy thing who missed me terribly whilst I was in Dubai and now takes every available opportunity to show me how annoyed he is at me for ‘leaving him’. You may think horses don’t hold grudges, but they do and mine is one of the worst. The first day I got back I tromped up the field with a bucket of carrots hoping this would please him. It didn’t. Sugar cubes? Nope, he didn’t like those either. My last hope was cucumber (he’s a strange horse, he will do anything for cucumber) and after a little bit of coaxing he stomped over to me and begrudgingly took the cucumber from my hand. He was severely unimpressed that I then put a child on his back, and showed me his disgust by snorting snot out of his nose straight on to my new Belstaff gillet.
Around thirty minutes into the ride we met a bus (not his most favourite thing at the best of times) I held onto the reigns to make sure I didn’t loose the small child passenger, and tried to steer my grumpy horse into the side. The bus crawled past us, while I was promptly covered in yet more horse snot, and that’s when it happened…the full weight of a full sized horse slammed straight onto my left foot. Well at first I didn’t feel a thing, my foot was too numb, and I was trying to concentrate on carrying on down the road now the bus had gone. The pain hit me ten minutes later, and was excruciating. I began to whimper…
After limping back to the field, ditching Mr Grumpy, and slowly removing my wellington and sock (not a pretty sight!) I cried for almost an hour, all my hopes for pointed shoe perfection dashed. What was I going to do now? Pointy shoes squish your toes at the best of times, but with a broken toe I realised all heels were going to hurt, which meant I might actually have to (gasp) wear flats!
Two weeks on my toe is still not back to its usual size, and I’m not sure the toe nail will ever recover from the ordeal. My pretty pointed shoes have yet to make an appearance, and my horse is still in a mood with me, you’d have thought I had broken his toe the way he’s acting.