As I mentioned on Friday, I managed to leave California with only one more pair of shoes than I arrived with (I’ve already “saved” them, so will wait until I’m posting the Challenge photos to show you them. I should probably add here that they’re just a pair of Forever 21 cheapies, just in case anyone’s getting excited about some kind of big reveal!), which is a new record for me. Boy, have I been making up for it since I’ve been back on British soil, though: as well as the latest pair of shoes I received as part of the Sarenza Brand Ambassador programme (more on those later, too!), there was also the small matter of the Kurt Geiger sale at Heathrow airport…

Now, we had only a very short stopover at Heathrow last week, and by “very short” I mean that by the time we cleared security, we had only around 20 minutes to get to the gate for our connecting flight.

But there’s a Kurt Geiger at Heathrow.

And it had a sale on.

And I still had some of my holiday money burning a hole in my pocket.

You can see my dilemma here, can’t you?

Well, I begged and I pleaded, and then I begged some more, and even although my travelling companions had good reason to doubt my ability to spend “just two minutes” in my favourite high street shoe store, they finally agreed that they’d walk ahead to the gate, and I’d catch up with them after my alloted two minutes.

I really thought that was all I’d need. My plan, you see, was to buy the red ‘Minnie’ pumps I showed you earlier this month, and I figured I’d simply walk in, scour the store from them, buy them, and leave, without allowing myself to be tempted by any of the other beauties on display.

They didn’t have them.

They did, however, have these:

As some of you may recall, these are KG’s ‘Corso Como’ pumps, which I’ve loved since the first incarnation of them was released last year. At £250, however, I’d resigned myself to never owning a pair, so although I’d picked them up and admired them in the same store on the way out of Heathrow last month, it hadn’t even occurred to me that these would be the shoes I’d be coming home with.

I don’t know why I even picked them up again, to be honest. I was running late, I knew they were far out of my price range… but still, I figured I’d just take a quick look at the display shoe, and maybe even try it on if it happened to be my size, which it obviously wouldn’t be – they almost never are.

So I picked up the shoe and turned it over. It was my size. More amazingly still, though, right next to the size, was the price label. And since I’d last looked at these shoes, three weeks earlier, they’d been reduced to £79.

(The shoes look orange in these photos, but are actually a gorgeous mustard yellow, which is a colour I absolutely love, and which was sadly lacking from my collection until now.)

I thought it must be a mistake at first. There was just no way I was standing there holding the £250 shoes I’d lusted over for months, which were not only in my size, but were suddenly also in my budget. The price was still the same after I’d rubbed my eyes and pinched myself a couple of times, though, so I didn’t even stop to try them on: I just headed for the till, getting my wallet out as I went.

There was no one at the till.

There were no sales assistants in the entire STORE, in fact, and as I stood there, gazing around for someone who’d be prepared to take my money and bring me the other shoe, I saw Shoeperman appear in the doorway, tapping his watch and pantomiming “Quick! We’re going to miss our flight!” at me.

I tried to pantomime back “It’s the Corso Como pumps! ON SALE!” but Terry doesn’t speak “shoe”, so he just looked annoyed and started pacing back and forth outside. Luckily, the sales assistant chose that moment to appear, so I thrust the shoe at her and babbled something incoherent about a shoe emergency, and she disappeared into the back of the store to find the shoe’s mate.

She stayed in the back of the store for… oooh, about three years, I think it was. Shoeperman had now come into the store and was becoming frantic about the time. I’d broken out into a cold sweat. And when the assistant finally reappeared?

She didn’t have my shoe.

“You’re next!” she said cheerfully, before disappearing again for another 7 years.

I almost gave up. We really were going to miss the flight if we didn’t leave rightthatverysecond, and I was heartbroken to think I’d come so near, but so far, from the Corso Comos.

Just as I was about to turn away in defeat, though, the assistant reappeared. With the other shoe.

Fortunately for me, I’d been able to use some of the waiting time to try on the shoe I already had, so I knew it, at least, fit*. There wasn’t time to try the other, so I paid as quickly as I could, grabbed the shoes, and ran for the door.

Terry and I actually had to run through the terminal to our gate, which we – luckily for me – reached with just a couple of minutes to spare. I’m sure Terry will forgive me soon for the stress I put him, through.

I, meanwhile, think it was totally worth it.

Oh, and they did both fit, thankfully!

(P.S. This particular colour doesn’t seem to be available online any more, but Kurt Geiger does still have stock of the pink, black and metallic versions, which you’ll find here, priced from £75 – £95).