St Tropez is one of those small fishing towns in the south of France that swells in the summer months with normal tourists and yacht bond jetsetters. You cannot help but pick up the vibes of ‘decadent casual’.
Everyone is dressed down with upmarket designer jeans, bags and shoes. What fun! One problem however is that the steep streets are slippery cobblestones. But after a bottle of rose, I feel I can float down the lethal slopes on my wedges on with the best of them. At any age this is sheer madness.
So when the inevitable happens and I trip on a manhole, slamming my head on the pavement, and am carefully put on a stretcher to go to the nearby ER via ambulance, the question does arise, ‘Do I now have to wear sensible shoes? Is this what coming of AGE means? Can I not be cool anymore?’
When you finally realise the risk of waltzing around with blocks on your feet, you wonder how anyone survives today’s fashion. A month later when I finished with the osteopath and got my central nervous system realigned, I realised there are great low heels and flats around and that this is not an age issue but just a sensible choice.