To Hell In High Heels

A good-looking young man walked past us. He had dark floppy hair and green eyes. He was tall and well built, probably twenty-five. Rachel caught me gawping at him and shook her head.

‘It’s no use,’ she said. ‘For us the war is over.’

What a horrible thought. Are we supposed to just sit back and passively let old age creep over us? Just lie there until we’re covered in wrinkles and cellulite? I don’t think so.

Absolutely not.

‘Personally, I’d rather go to hell in high heels than to heaven in flat shoes,’ I told Rachel defiantly. ‘You can wear slippers when you’re seventy if you want to, but I shall be wearing Manolo Blahniks. Even if I’m in a wheelchair.’

My sentiments exactly… well it would be if I owned a pair of Manolos. Anyway, I’m looking forward to reading the latest book by Helena Frith Powell, To Hell In High Heels. It’s her “brilliantly funny tale of trying out anti-ageing tricks from botox to yoga, and living to tell the tale.”



Read an excerpt of To Hell in High Heels
Buy the book from amazon.com
Read Helena's other articles, including her amusing Botox Diary.