I’m in pain, at home with my left leg elevated.
I fell over.
I had not been drinking and was not wearing ridiculous shoes, they’re Clark’s FFS!
A sunny day on Lower Sloane Street on route to a fashion show. Tres chic indeed …until you go arse over tit.
The strange thing about falls I find is the slow motion nature of them. The many thoughts you can manage to fit in, on what is after all a very short journey, from upright to laid out when you’re five foot fiveish, is amazing. My fall told me many things about myself, or at least reminded me of six things:
1. I am unsafe on my feet, my balance is very poor due to ongoing, life long, dodgy, middle ear issues, this in combo with my shoe choices and occasional drinking habits may answer many questions.
2. I am fashion shallow, as I hurtled towards that Chelsea pavement my first thoughts were of my beautiful, Prada sun glasses and my Fitbit . Please don’t let them break, please don’t let them break.
3. Embarrassment is a great motivator. Once flat out, face down, being aided by a lovely young stranger, embarrassment overwhelmed all other senses. Dodgy paving stone? she asked. That or dodgy legs I said, I thanked her and sprinted off.
4. New stuff makes me feel better. Out of sight of ‘the scene of the incident’ I shook uncontrollably in a doorway. The doorway to a makeup shop, I went in to calm down. Many, many £s later I continued along Kings Road.
5. Food makes everything thing feel better. Still a little shaky and now in considerable pain, I found myself in a Kuwaiti cafe having a cup of tea with fine slices of pistachio and cardamon cake in a saffron sauce, fabulous. A second plus was that I could still wiggle my fingers even though my hand was a mess of grazes and my wrist impressively bruised and a little swollen. Being surrounded by pictures of men dressed in Arab headdresses added a certain dream like quality to this episode.
6. Fuss can only be made with humour. Only be a drama queen if you can be light hearted about it. The makeup shop visit resulted in a lipstick accident, bright orange/red marks all down my front, luckily too bright to be baked bean sauce I told everyone.
fat tart 