Snake bitten

A few years back I was in New York on a photoshoot and managed to do something very painful to my foot. I was too busy to get it seen to, and on the 8-hour flight back to London it swelled up and hurt badly. Back in London I spent the next few days limping in and out of the office, still too busy to see a doctor. At the end of the week I flew back across the Atlantic, this time to Chicago, for my cousin Tom's wedding. Of course, within an hour of arriving in the Windy City, I was weeping with pain, and shortly thereafter I was in a cab to A+E at Northwest General (location of the real-life 'ER'!) I spent the rest of the trip on crutches. Despite this inauspicious start, I loved Chicago. Hobbling around Wicker Park one afternoon I came across a particularly fabulous shoe store, and a particularly fabulous pair of Robert Clergerie wooden-heeled snakeskin sandals. They were extremely sexy and extremely expensive, and as my foot was in bandages I could only try on one of them. Regretfully, I turned my back and hopped out of the store. But I couldn't get those mules out of my mind. Back in London, I was describing them wistfully (and repetitively) to Jo in the fashion department, when she said, 'Why don't you call Robert Clergerie in London and see if they are in stock here?' I gasped. Genius!! I called Robert Clergerie on Wigmore Street. Yes, they had one pair left. My size. On sale. (Still cost a fortune.) Yes, they'd hold them for me. The rest, as ever, is history.