Warning: this clothing may cause injury

Who’d have thought that a humble piece of clothing could be dangerous?
High heeled shoes, sure – have you ever tried walking in heels on cobbles?
But trousers? Surely they’re fairly safe?

A few years back I developed a penchant for very wide legged trousers, the sort that’s made out of floaty fabric and are perfect on hot summer days with flip-flops. Problem was, it was a lethal combination…

Countless times I’d trip on the hems, or catch my toes in the opposite leg, then came a near catastrophe:
One day, while performing the simple task of crossing a friend’s living room floor to fetch cutlery, I caught one toe in the hem of the opposite leg and went flying. I’d gathered enough momentum to send me skidding along the carpet a good long way – resulting in hugely attractive carpet burns on my arms and grazes on my legs. As I lay on the floor holding back my sobs, my friend stood over me and evaluated the situation with one comment: “if you’d gone a couple more inches, you’d have landed on top of the TV – and I’d have made you pay for any damage”. Such sympathy.

I think that was the point at which I realised that perhaps this style of clothing was to be avoided. I tried blaming my ineptitude upon inherited mild dyspraxia, but really, it was simply a case of clumsiness and big feet.

Over time, I forgot this particularly stupid episode in my life, until yesterday. Last week a miracle occurred – while on a spontaneous shopping trip, I found a pair of black trousers that fitted perfectly (always a rare occurrence, I find trousers hugely tricky to buy), plus, they were high waisted and wide legged -what I most look for in a trouser. In fact, they are very wide legged, practically culottes and rather 1930’s esque.

Wearing them yesterday was joyous, until I reached the tube station. There, I had to dodge round a gaggle of teenage school pupils (for some reason, they always intimidate me, even though my school days are long behind me). Having politely said “excuse me” and made eye contact with their teacher, I negotiated my way round them. As I did, my foot caught in the fabric on my opposite leg and it was all I could do to stop myself landing flat on the platform floor. Actually, I didn’t stop my fall – the seats along the platform edge did – ouch.

I regained my poise rather red faced and shuffled along the platform sheepishly, all the while cursing my choice of trouser. I’m now rather paranoid about them, especially on my office’s marble spiral staircase – I’m sure one day either my trousers or my shoes (or a combination of both) will send me flying to an almost certain death. [Or at least a major injury, which could be fairly useful, depending upon when it occurred…]

It seems I really have learnt nothing from life’s lessons.