High style
There a number of unimportant things i'm able to do, like rolling my tongue from the sides, faking a good Argentinean accent or opening cans using just one hand, but my biggest unimportant achievement is walking on high heels.

As you all very well know, i ain't no supermodel, babies, but i know that when you're on a pair of heels, you have to be able to look straight ahead and avoid (under all circumstances) to let your ankles go dizzy.

It takes some sense of grace to do the walking and a great deal of experience. I've been practicing since i was five. I wasn't the ordinary girlie who jumps into mummy's shoes: i was a professional. I used to spend hours walking up and down the corridor. My favourite pair were black and vertigo-high.

Last Saturday i tried on a pair of sensational stilettos at the Bally store in Madrid. I've already bought my wedding shoes but, children, these shoes were drop-dead-gorgeous. A clear emergency.

As i slipped into them, failing to knock my head with the roof, i felt a little fragile and decided to walk around the shop to try them out, despite the odd look at the rather cretinous salesgirl, despite the fact that i knew then i wasn't even close to buying them (funny shape, obnoxious price). I felt on top of the world. It's that easy.