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Mel Greig: When sexy boots aren't made for walking
Ever heard of bocks? There’s a chance you may not have given the fact that I just made that name up in honour of my new shoe purchase. They’re a combination of boots and socks moulded into one stylish boot, comfy knee-high socks with a heel.
My bocks fit like a glove, but before getting ready for an epic night out, I noticed they were slippery on the carpet. They didn’t have a lot of traction on the bottom and I even said to my girlfriend, “Beb these feel a bit slippery, I hope I don’t go ass up in the street”. Little did I know that moment really was a premonition as to what would happen not once, but twice later that evening.
We were dressed for winter conditions and ready to go on the man hunt. I was feeling comfortable and confident in my bocks, and we’d picked a few bars in close proximity of each other, so I walked slowly and steadily between the first two bars with no drama at all. But things took a turn for the worst when we got to the third bar.
Isn’t it funny how quickly you become a giraffe trying to walk for the first time when you’re a few wines in? I can’t walk in heels on the best of days, so the bocks were about to teach me a big lesson in what shoes NOT to wear in winter.
As we walked out of the third bar at 10.30pm (I feel it necessary to point out I’m a nanna who usually peaks by midnight), this was the last stop and we were leaving after this.
A line was starting to form as we were leaving, and after a fun girl’s night out we linked arms and strutted out of the bar like we were Romy and Michelle (but in reverse as we were heading out the door).
I think this sense of confidence was my undoing as I’d taken the focus off sticking to the basic ‘one foot in front of the other routine’ that I’d been nailing all night.
Within five metres of leaving the bar, I put my right foot down too hard and started to instantly go ass up. I was desperate not go down without a fight though, so I reached out and grabbed for whatever I could reach… which ended up being my friend Courtney’s G-string. So as I’m falling, I’m pulling myself to try and stay up right by using her knickers as a handle, which resulted in her getting a butt floss from her giant wedgie and laughing at the crumpled mess we were in.
Did I save myself? Hell no, we both went down in the middle of the street.
A lovely man working the front door of the bar came over to help us and hailed a cab assuming it was high levels of intoxication. I started explaining that it was my bocks, but he didn’t understand what I was saying and I think he thought I said, “I hurt my box”.
He continued to hold onto my arm and I kid you not, three metres later I went ass up again while he was holding me.
My bocks had turned into ice skates in the middle of the rainy street and I couldn’t walk like a normal person anymore. I’m not proud to say that I chose to crawl the last two metres to the taxi because I refused to take off my fabulous bocks.
Ladies, even though the shoes might look good, winter weather brings on many safety hazards and if your shoes don’t have traction, just avoid them – or wear really nice knickers in preparation of ending up being sprawled in the middle of the street.
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