This weekend myself and fellow blogger besties Clouds and Karisa were invited to take part in Glamour magazine’s annual Stiletto Run held at The Table Bay Hotel. Essentially, you have to do a 100m dash in a pair of stilettos (they need to be at least 7cm high) and pray to the fashion gods that you don’t fall on your ass or worse. They even make you sign a scary li’l indemnity form. It’s pretty serious shizz which is why I didn’t mess around. I got an early night the night before and woke up to carbo-load with a chocolate croissant and Red Bull.
Once there, I found out I’d been put into the celeb race *hair flick, head toss* and was instantly overcome with dread as I thought I’d have to race against half woman half giraffe Liezel van der Westhuizen. Fortunately, as it turned out, Liezel didn’t take part in the race (phew!) but served as the event’s MC.
One of the sponsors of the event along with Revlon and Mainstay was PAIGE, an American denim brand that’s new to SA and available from Callaghan. Upon arrival, I was given a PAIGE-branded tee to run but didn’t quite get it and made a fool of myself by trying to return it. ‘No, no. This is the wrong one. I’m Leigh, not Paige. I don’t know who this Paige person is…’ Awkwies!
After slukking back a few Mainstay boxtails (the Mango one’s actually pretty awesome) and getting my make-up touched up at the Revlon stall, I was all set to race on a totally uneven stretch of bricks that were a little wet from light drizzle. I dunno about you, but in my book, this is pretty much as close as it gets to living on the edge. Then again, I’m the same devil-may-care kinda girl who tweets from the bath, tries tester lipstick directly to her lips and adds salt to everything without tasting it first. It’s a thug life, ya’ll.
Interesting peeps on the scene included GQ’s grooming ed Piet Smedy, Glamour’s fashion ed Bronwyn Davies and her zexy rose-bedecked sunnies and yet more GQ boys; fashion ed Arthur Malan and features ed Jason Basson. Massive props to Arthur and Jason who both wore pointy toe heels and joined in with the race. I’m not sure if Jason won anything but damn that boy is fast. He’s definitely the kind of guy you’d want to have around should anyone make off with your handbag.
But ja, back to the race. Aside from myself, Karisa and Clouds, my heat also involved socialite slash shoe designer Sonia Booth; face of Decleor Thandie Kupe and blogger Nicci Bruce of City Kids Sting. Nicci and I have been twitter friends for a while so it was lovely to meet her in the flesh. She is possibly the only girl I know who can wear a Jack Parow-style cap and not look kak.
Once the gun went off, I did my best to run the gauntlet without tripping up and managed to pull it off, coming second last. Ms Booth, who’s got the speed of a blerrie puma, managed to win, followed by Clouds, Thandie and Karisa. Nicci came last but only ‘cos she kept ‘falling’ as she’d promised to donate cash to a charity called The Wheat Trust every time she bit the ground. Cunning.
I’m not too sure who won the main race but will find out and update the post. They walked off with a V&A Waterfront gift card for R11 000 (I know, right?!) and a R4000 gift card from Europa Art. Very cool. Everyone else got to leave with this li’l goodie bag over here:
In all, this was a super fun and I’ll definitely be keen to do it again next year. Except this time I’ll wear stilettos without a platform and possibly take it easy on the booze before I hit the bricks.
A big dankie to Glamour magazine as well as Jill Groger from Zebra Square PR for putting it all together,
Update: I’ve just been informed of a video floating around that features Nicci almost crossing the finish line before me but not quite managing as I ‘elbow her out the way while looking like a jealous, crazy-eyed Miss South Africa contestant that’s possessed by an evil gremlin’. (Thanks Karisa, you bitch!) I’m yet to see it but Karisa and Clouds have and are trying to get their hands on it as I type so as to embarass the shizz out of me. (Nice girls, real nice.) I can assure you that any foul play that may or may not show up on this video is probably due to a weird camera angle (especially if it makes me look fat). I’m actually a very good loser. Just ask all my friends who I’ve reduced to tears while playing 30 Seconds and now refuse to play it with me, citing post traumatic stress. So there!