My Left Foot

It's Sunday morning and this is the state of my left foot.

(Toenail color: O.P.I. Kennebunkport. A really great true red.)

It's not easy to tell because the flash washes it out, but the top half of my foot is covered in a bruise, and the area just south of my toes is quite swollen. I think I'm looking at my second day in a row of not being able to run, because while the foot doesn't hurt to walk on, it hurts to have something pressing on it. I don't believe it's broken or anything, just badly bruised and quite sore. I actually took a dance workshop yesterday and was on it for three hours with not too much problem, I just made sure to wear shoes that didn't press on that part of my foot.

What, you may be asking, did you do to yourself?

I didn't. I was done to.

Friday afternoon I had an appointment at the Shu Uemura counter in Neiman Marcus to get some false eyelashes from CC, my favorite Austin cosmetics SA. (I was attending an event Friday night, I wasn't just randomly over-maquillaging myself.) I got up there a little early and... I'll admit it, I was doing some shopping, despite my No Buy. I had my outfit for the evening picked out, but I... Oh, it was panic shopping. We've all done it. And I was kind of half-hearted about it, but still... I was shopping. I was in a store called Martin + Osa, which is not actually a place where I usually spend much time because they seem to sell only really simple, casual clothes (endless variations on the t-shirt, jeans, etc.) in muted, dusty colors, but they had a couple of blouses in the window that were nice bright colors and I thought the red one might work with the skirt I was planning to wear that evening, in place of the plain black top (::yawn::) that was in the lineup. I tried on this blouse, which was cute and would probably actually be quite useful, but "cute" wasn't what I was looking for, so I decided against. I was replacing the blouses on the hanging display where I'd found them at the front of the store (I know, I can leave them in the dressing room for the SAs, but I grew up in a home where one of my mother's most frequently uttered phrases was, "Put it away when you're done with it!" and I was going to walk right past the display on my way out of the store.) As I was replacing the blouses, a little SA came scurrying over, intent on finding a pair of shorts for another customer he was working with. The shorts were located on a shelf immediately below the hanging section where I was replacing the blouses. Could he wait the ten seconds it would take for me to hang the blouses? He could not. He crouched off to my right and reached awkwardly around in front of me to rifle through the pile of shorts and since he couldn't see what he was doing, he was clumsy about it. Next thing I knew, a stainless steel bracket for holding up some signage weighing about five pounds was plummeting off the shelf and landing on my foot, which was very skimpily shod due to having had a recent pedicure.

It nearly brought me to my knees. The thing was L-shaped, about an inch and a half wide by a half-inch thick, and sharp-edged. The cut edge was what hit my foot, and a drop of blood instantly started to well up on my skin.

Mr. Thing was fluttering around me like a butterfly in a wind tunnel, slightly panicked as he no doubt saw his retail career flashing before his eyes. The poor customer he was waiting on discreetly took herself off to some other part of the store, not anxious to watch the public flogging she probably thought was about to take place. "Are you okay? Are you okay?" he kept yammering. No, I told him, I was most certainly NOT okay. It hurt like hell and it was already starting to bleed. "Tell me what I can do! Tell me what I can do!" he begged. I looked at him and I truly loathed him in that moment. I mean, I had a serious impulse to punch him in the mouth, and he was an itty-bitty wifty thing -- I coulda taken him easy. Not only was he the cause of what was currently some pretty intense pain, but he was useless. "Let me get you some ice/a band-aid," would have been nice. "Here, come sit down over here for a moment," would have been another good one. Instead he was just a bag of quivering panic and he would not shut up.

"Just don't drop anything else on my foot," I told him, and limped away to nurse my wound in private.

No, I didn't ask to speak to a manager. I couldn't see what good it would do. The guy was an idiot, but it wasn't like he injured me on purpose. It was an accident, and I don't see the point of getting some college kid who works for 8 bucks an hour reprimanded or worse for an accident. My foot is sore but I don't think there's any long-term damage here and goodness knows I've caused worse injuries to myself on a few occasions. I went to my event Friday in high heels -- the inaugural appearance of my Blahnik Dianamuses (Dianami?), and they performed admirably. I hate not being able to run, but a couple of days off isn't going to kill me.

Besides, I can't help the sneaking suspicion that I brought it on myself by breaking my No Buy. Was this just the Universe reminding me to stay focused on the goal? Maybe. I did in fact panic-buy a top at Neiman's, something completely different to wear with a back-up outfit that I put together in my head as I hobbled along in case I couldn't wear the shoes I was planning to wear. But it's still on the hanger -- still in the car, actually -- and I'm going to return it next week. And the jolt of the pain cleared the fashion fog in my head and I realized that I didn't have to wear a plain black top -- I had an emerald green blouse that would work with the skirt. Voila:

(Photo taken post-party, I did not leave the house with those lap creases.)

And it was just fine. And my eyelashes were also great, although by the time I got home one of them had come unattached on either end and was hilariously waving around on my eyelid like a crazed centipede. (Note to self -- carry tube of eyelash adhesive in evening bag.)

On the topic of eyelashes -- I went with a pretty low-key set that were fairly realistic-looking, but manohman does Shu Uemura have some faboo falsies. I am dying -- DYING -- for an opportunity to wear these bad boys:

Long, sweeping feathery things -- completely over-the-top and gorgeous. Or these:

Absolute fantasy. What enormous fun.

I do have a wedding to attend next weekend... I haven't been able to find any earrings that I want to wear with the dress, maybe I'll go with matching lashes as an accessory instead.

So that's my tale of woe. Forgive me for whining, I just needed to get it off my... instep. Hope everyone else had a wonderful, fashionable, injury-free weekend, and that all mothers are having a wonderful Mothers' Day!

Photos: Style Spy, shuuemura-usa.com