This is a short and embarrassing true story.
I was walking down a NYC sidewalk, rushing back to Lincoln Center to catch a show during Fashion Week. My outfit—custom fit, dark denim, high-waisted “Pin-Up” jeans from The Stronghold (one of our Best of L.A. winners), with beige suspenders, a beige and white striped sweater, and 4-inch platform wedges. It was cool enough to garner a few snapshots from the wannabe-Bill Cunninghams who stalk the Plaza.
Stilt-like shoes used to be fairly commonplace for me eight years ago when I lived in NY, and beaming, I thought to myself, “Wow, I still got it. I can still walk a block a minute in 4 inch…” No sooner did the thought pop in my head, I felt the ground wobble below, and I fought to right myself like a dingy in a Nor’easter. I bit it hard, slamming my left knee into the pavement, power sliding on my arm like a second baseman trying to tag a runner out. At the same time, a hoard of commuters came up from the subway station below and silently gawked at me. Pride had indeed come before the fall.
Along with a couple of bruises and scrapes, I had ripped a hole in the knee of my brand new jeans. And the Brett Michaels Poison look didn’t really vibe with the deep-indigo, stovepipe-leg jeans. I almost cried—not because my knee had swollen to the size of a grapefruit and I still had a lot of walking to do in those 4-inch heels, but because those were award-winning jeans and cost $450 and were ruined. Hobbling along, I remembered we had included L.A.’s best denim repair shop in the same Best of L.A. issue— Denim Repair Shop at Schaeffer’s Garment Hotel and all would not be lost.
This little tale shows our Best of L.A. issue in action, full circle. I couldn’t have imagined needing my jeans fixed after only wearing them twice, or that I’d ever find myself searching for practical dressy shoes.