It’s 2011 and Topshop on Oxford Street is the centre of the universe. It’s a cathedral and we come to worship at its mirrorball walls and handbags. You step off the street straight into a nightclub of accessories, magical jewellery, bags of American popcorn and if you can believe it, an actual DJ. A DJ in a shop. We couldn’t believe it.
You sail down the escalators, watching your reflection disappear in the mirror above you and descend into an open plan sea of colour, light and denim. You scan the rails and mannequins from this vantage point. To the right; jeans, Topshop boutique (pricey) and a photo booth. Underwear to the left and changing rooms in the top corner. And in the middle, clothes which could transform you into someone new. The person you always wanted to be, the fashion girl inside you, the head turner, someone achingly cool. You but better. Shop assistants buzz around in black slogan t shirts and lanyards, the music pumps, the possibilities are endless.
You walk through the middle to the large staircase which takes you down to the bottom floor. Concessions you’d never heard of with their avant garde overpriced capsule collections. A coffee shop (in a shop!) and the new vintage section which was far too intimidating because who knew what size things were. And finally, shoes. Darling shoes. Shoes as far as the eye could see.
Shoes would never let you down. Shoes would always fit and wouldn’t make you well up in a changing room as your dreams of being Alexa Chung slowly died. Shoes were a comfort, a dear friend and there was everything from a £15 pair of ballet flats through to £350 platform stilettos.
In the corner was one of my favourites, Kurt Geiger. Kurt was colourful, outlandish and just the right side of tasteless. I loved all of it. The chain handle rainbow bags, the sparkly flatforms, the trainers with hologram trim. It was so fun, so new, I wanted all of it. I needed all of it.
I clearly remember wandering down there on a weekday afternoon and seeing a brand new Kurt Geiger slip on backless mule. I’d seen backless shoes before but I couldn’t imagine wearing one, how would they stay on?! The mystery only added to their allure. But I haven’t told you the best bit; these white leather flats were embellished with an embroidered gold shiny lobster. A LOBSTER. There on a shoe. The campest, most fabulous thing I’d ever seen. I think I gasped as I picked them up. I noticed them in black and pink but the white were just that bit more sophisticated, more wearable, more effortless. When I finally did put them back I thought, ‘imagine being the sort of woman to wear those,’ because these weren’t shoes for a girl but a woman.
I was 27 at the time and didn’t know a thing about myself. I was still waiting to become a person. To become a woman. I was somewhere between a girl, a student and an adult. I didn’t know what I wore, what I liked or what was good for me. It was itchy and uncomfortable. I still couldn’t feed myself properly, remember to take an umbrella or know when I’d had enough to drink. So I shopped to try and find her. I bought things she *might* wear hoping one day to wake up and find she’d arrived. I shopped and bought and ended up with a tiny flat bursting with handbags, coats and plastic jewellery. But even then in my desperation to become the woman I wanted to be, I knew I wasn’t ready for those lobster shoes.
It’s taken 15 years, 3 babies, one very supportive husband, meditation and a lot of Sertraline but finally I am a woman. I am that woman. The confident, assured woman who is finally finding out what she likes (vitamins and capers) what is good for me (eye lash tints and morning prayers) and most of all, what I wear. I am finally buying neutrals and I feel great in them. I used to think wearing loud prints was the only way to have a personality but now I’ve realised I am actually charming in black. I’ve got new jeans, nice cardigans, denim jumpsuits and Birkenstocks.
Two weeks ago I went onto Vinted to look for those Kurt Geiger lobster shoes. I found them, in my size. The same ones I’d put back on the stand all those years ago. Because I wasn’t ready. But now I am.
Now, I am that woman.
UPDATE: Kurt Geiger read this piece and slide into the DMs to say they loved it and could they send me something. HOW kind.
Love this! "wouldn’t make you well up in a changing room as your dreams of being Alexa Chung slowly died" was a stand-out line.
I recently purchased a couple of Kate Moss for Topshop dresses on Vinted because when they came out I was that 20 odd year old who didn't know who she was, skint ( I could always afford beer and fags though) and a couple of sizes bigger than would be comfortable in any of it. I am now that woman too! It feels great