Strops and Stilettos 2

Things you need for a successful 80s outfit: 10 cans of Elnett post mega levels of back-combing, jewellery a go go - I was mostly channelling Mr T, giant bow on head - and dubiously-tasteful glitzy garb. Preferably with some sort of cute little stiletto court shoe. Or not, if you are me and have put your poor back out. Reader, it has been a trying week to say the least. IT happened on Thursday. One reach too far and I was 'Taxi!' to the osteopath, then to the GP for some super-strength pain killers and finally to the floor for a lot of lying still feeling very sorry for my poor crippled self. Come Saturday when I had to get my party on for an 80s Valentine's Prom (apparently these days you simply can't have any sort of party without letting people find their inner Bananarama) and all pretty shoes were a no-no. Devastated I meekly pulled on my Pierre Hardy for Gap biker boots. It was one thing feeling smug in them during the great blizzard of Monday the 2nd, but quite another to have to try and pretend I was having fun when my poor hot-pink peep toes were lying forlornly in a box at home. Sob. NO dancing around to Duran Duran for me either, this baby was firmly stuck in that corner. I know, I know, I am a poor child. I am struggling through and yesterday someone pointed out that perhaps I should be sporting a rucksack. Fighting back the tears I conceded to swap to my Celine satchel and put the shoulder tote down. I am the walking incarnation of a fashion casualty, and London Fashion Week starts on Friday. Cue horror movie soundtrack…