High Heels on Serpentine Avenue

The lady walking languidly down Serpentine Avenue had vertiginously high heels. They were red and shiny. Her skirt was short and tight and her hair was long and piled up carelessly on top of her head.

She attracted my attention because she was carrying two little boys. She had a tiny baby on her front in a little strap on carrier. He looked like he was a couple of weeks old. On her shoulders with his hands around her head was a sturdy two year old.

My car was stopped at the traffic lights. “Look boys, look at the lady, aren’t her shoes lovely? How can she do that?”

My children were stunned. They are used to seeing Mothers in gym gear and high heels are consigned to special nights out.

They both stared, amazed and possibly full of admiration. I wasn’t sure what their opinion was. It mattered. I needed to know.

“So guys, what do you think? Is it a bit dangerous?”

My youngest put on a dramatic voice: “Mummy she’s thinking: If I fall, I fall, if I die or the children die, we die, but at least when we die, we have died in fashion!”