The Long and the Short of It

It's every girls dream right? To be six foot tall with long legs, towering above the envious (and short) crowd. Yes, that's right, I've heard it a hundred times before. Wait; hold that, I've heard it at least a thousand times before. It can take any number of linguistic twists, but the word tall and a synonym for nice are usually there. Well, I've got a secret to share. I hate it, I really do.

On route to a meeting in London a few weeks back, I was dashing up Oxford Street searching for the right exit when an alarmingly tall gentleman stopped me. 'Gosh it's nice to see a woman of such length', he exclaimed, before bothering me for several more metres, asking if I did the high jump and where exactly I came from. It would not be ok to do that to somebody who was overweight or shorter than average, of that I’m sure!

I've been here before. If I'd allowed it, the next question would have come from the stockpile of Atrocious, Misguided Questions and Compliments for Tall People. 'Did your mother put you in a grow bag?' 'Have you always been tall?' or, let's crack out the originality, 'How tall are you exactly?'. No, sort of and six foot (six foot one if I'm honest but I wouldn't dare).

Welcome to the world of ankle flappers, ugly flat shoes and doing a lunge when somebody takes a group photo and you look like a BFG bookend. Let's start with the ankle flappers.....

Buying a pair of trousers is epic. Knowing you want to avoid Long Tall Sally at all costs (I’ve never been there because that would be admitting defeat), you have to shop carefully. Having trousers skirting your shin, unless that is overtly the intended style, is obscene no less.

With trouser bottoms dancing at the top of your shoes, you’re never going to look good. You’re always going to be a misfit. I’ve learned that hard way. When girls were first allowed to wear trousers to school (our own Suffragete moment), I got no further than the bus stop before I was ridiculed for my short slacks and pop socks. I was desperate to go home but I had to keep face. I survived the day but never again did I wear trousers despite my previous five year war for equality. Who wants equality when you look like a tool?

Topshop Tall is usually a safe bet but I literally need to try on seven or eight pairs to find something vaguely flattering.

Next for the flat shoes. Ignore what the magazines say. Flat shoes look rubbish with a posh frock so then you’re faced with a conundrum - how to find a medium heel that’s not committing any serious crime to your overall look. It’s tough I tell you. I make compromises on almost every pair of shoes I buy. It’s an infringement on my womanly rights I’m sure…to not have one pair that I truly adore! I look longingly into delicious shoes stores and feel really hard done buy. I’ve been dealt a duff hand.

And finally to the photo lunge. It’s appalling. When you’re at least 6 inches taller than most of your girlfriends, a photo is not a flattering opportunity. I know, deep down, that I’d never make it into a girl band (and not just because I can’t sing a note in tune). I’d be laughed off the stage.

I sense that this tall theme is going to be a blog regular so, rest assured, I’ll keep you posted.


Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x