Monday, July 6, 2009
High Hill Disaster
I clamored into the front seat of the 4-runner with a huge grin on my face. I threw my polka dot high heel shoes into the back seat as my mom got into the driver’s seat. The evening had been wonderful despite the fact that my feet now felt like a hundred needles were burying themselves into the bottoms and sides of my feet.
The theatrical production of Les Miserables had been preformed at the Pioneer Theatre Company and any theatre going person knows that for professional shows you must dress up in at least business casual. Our society doesn’t really have the big balls or parties where girls can feel pretty, especially for myself since I don’t go to very many dances either.
It had started that morning when we went shopping for snow coats because we were going up to the cabin the next weekend. Berlington Coat Factory was my mom’s and mine preferred store so we dragged the guys of our family there.
That’s when I spotted it.
A cocktail dress with white background and black flowers, it came down to about the knees and had black netting underneath. It was also a spaghetti strap. I picked it up with a slight smile. A thing to understand about me is that I’m a slight tomboy. I play video games like Halo, Fable, Final Fantasy, and Zelda. I never wear makeup unless it’s for a special occasion. So, I hardly ever ask for dresses.
I have only one formal dress that I wear, and it goes against ‘school code’ so I have to ear something over it. But I didn’t have any semi-formal dresses and I really liked this one.
My mom was with me looking at dresses as well. I ran up to her and showed her the dress.
She smiled and said, “That’s very pretty.”
“Can I get it?” I asked biting my lip. She thought for a moment before saying that I should try it on first.
Coming out of the dressing room my mom gasped and grinned broadly.
“That fits you so well,” she said. “But what you wear it for?”
“I’ll wear it to Les Mis tonight,” I said. My mom pointed out that not many people dress up that fancy for theatre anymore, but I was determined to have it. I took off the dress, inside the dressing room, before folding it up.
As we were coming out of the dressing area my mom spotted these tiny polka dotted shoes. She held them up to my dress and grinned.
“They match perfectly,” she said. I looked at the size on them and frowned.
“They’re too big,” I said pointing out the small black six on the shoes. I tried them anyway and sure enough they were a little bit too big. We searched the surrounding area for any other polka dotted shoes, but they seemed to be the only ones. This took about half an hour because my mom also looked for new shoes for herself.
So what to do? I didn’t have any shoes that were cute, but impractical like other girls so I smirked and said I would get them anyway. They would be my first high heeled pumps. I had one other pair of high heel shoes, but they were easier to walk on, even though I tripped and sprained my ankles on those (never wear high heels to the mall).
We went over to my dad who raised an eyebrow at the dress, but agreed to buy them for me. I was ecstatic.
When my mom and I got home I put the dress and shoes on, and promptly stumbled as I took my first step.
We straightened my hair that was down to the middle of my back then. I wore some of my mom’s silver hanging earrings and necklace. I also put on makeup.
My mom also got dressed up fancy for the play. She had these pants on that looked like they were a dress because they had a thinner material over it that flowed when you turned. My mom is tall, around 5’ 8”, with beautiful hair the flows down her back and wonderful posse and confidence. I love to be seen with her and think that I have the genes in me to be like that as well someday.
I didn’t put on the shoes until we got to the University of Utah campus, which is where the Pioneer Theatre Company resides. We walked around the campus for a little bit and that’s when I realized how very uncomfortable the shoes my dad had bought for me were. I had to take them off half way through the walk and go barefoot.
After an hour we went into the theatre. It was embarrassing when I had to get my mom to help me up the stairs as she laughed at me.
“It’s so much fun to see a tomboy in high heels,” she said. “Not that anyone here would be able to tell that you’re a tomboy.” I rolled my eyes, but snickered slightly at the truthful statement.
The play was magnificent and half way through we were allowed to go downstairs for refreshments. Down three flights of stairs in high heels is not fun. I almost tripped three times and slightly twisted my ankle.
On the way back up after ten minutes my mom leaned in close to me and smiled, “All the boys were starring at you.” I blushed as I’m sure my mom knew when she said it.
The second act through Les Mis was when the high heels really began to hurt. Slowly the needles began to malevolently poke at my skin causing sharp pains to go up my legs. Glancing around I slowly pushed my shoes off, sighing as my feet felt free once again. I was able to enjoy the rest of the play without any worries.
I put my shoes on only long enough to get out of the theatre, I took them off as soon as we were free of the smiling and talking crowd. I ran across the parking lot barefoot with my mom laughing behind me.
I clamored into the front seat of the 4-runner with a huge grin on my face. I threw my polka dot high heel shoes into the back seat as my mom got into the driver’s seat. I plugged my i-pod into the car and turned on the music to Les Mis as my mom and I talked excitedly of the production we had just seen.