July 22, 2016 |
Walk in. Nice place, this. Big. French. Wait, did I fall asleep in the Uber? Parisian heat and viewing of many large couture dresses has left me… woozy. Thank fuck, though, the people of Jimmy Choo have anticipated by “flustered” look. There’s low lighting. Maybe no-one will notice the perspiration on my forehead? Right, no standing here, I’m already being shuffled through by unnamed handsome suited man into next room. He’s handed me a water. Isn’t he good? I descend some stairs. Hark! What’s that? A large table for feasting. Fuck, was this a dinner? No, it’s 4pm. So what’s that on the plates? Fillet mignon? Lobster thermidor? No, a shoe. A Jimmy Choo shoe. We’ve never tried eating a shoe, which is interesting as leather comes from an animal and well, we’ve pretty much eaten everything else they have to offer. That said, these would probably look better on a foot rather than down my throat, being as they are, beautiful, sparkling creations from their Cruise 2017 collection – Swarovski embellished pumps, diamante and pompom brooches that clip on to the shoes (customisable, lovely!), suede heels with twisted bows. And bags, too. Equally beautiful, obviously. Wait, is that large bejewelled turkey available too? No, apparently. But look, says PR, pointing at large fruitbowl. A bejewelled banana. Take a picture of that, she says. I do. Can I eat it too? Best not, no. Shame. I think there’s a Macdonalds down the street.
