At a charity auction event I attended recently, one of the prizes was a champagne evening in a Jimmy Choo store. The auction made a lot of money for the charity, but - even with the huge discount - I would not have been able to buy a pair of shoes from the shop.
I do, however, own a pair of Jimmy Choo’s. One of my friends went to the sample sale and purchased shoes for all the women she knew at ridiculously low prices. Such was her excitement that she was hyperventilating when she called and asked me my shoe size. I love the shoes, but, with the five-inch heels, they are not very practical. I can’t really wear them that often, unless my husband carries me (which he won’t), walking a few paces is about my limit.
The evening also reminded me of a funny Jimmy Choo anecdote. Many years ago my husband and I were at a party in London. We were both talking to different people. After we had left the party, he told me that he had been chatting to a really nice guy who worked in a shoe shop. Office, Nine West etc, came to mind. When he pulled out the shop assistant’s business card it was Mr Jimmy Choo himself. My husband had no idea who he was and, quite obviously, they did not chat about shoes.