I have been 5ft 10 inches since I was 11 years old. It happened overnight. I went from being a little bit taller than everyone else to towering above the whole class in what seemed like 24 hours. I don’t mind being tall; in fact, I quite like it. Of course, there are some #tallgirlproblems. For example, some guys that I fancy come up quite short; I am always at the back of the group photo, and I don’t make many friends at concerts towering in front of people like a big black leather clad sequined human wall. I honestly don’t mind dating a shorter guy; usually, men can’t handle it though. I have even had a request from a particular 5ft 8 ex to ‘not wear those heels again’ and ‘why don’t you wear flats tonight’. The bottom line is fellas, unless you have the confidence, and self-esteem to date a woman who is taller than you in her stockinged feet and be all right when she slips into a 5inch red bottomed shoe, then please do us tall gals favour and pick on someone your size. Or better still, smaller; because we tall girls don’t have time for that.
I was at a party in my standard going-out-uniform of black trousers, black top and of course a 5-inch black shoe. The event had got off to a flying start with some people up to no good in the bathroom above. Strange noises and been emanating from up there for a while and of course it had become the talk of the moment. The offending couple had then come giggling down the stairs, messily put back together. The female culprit had a curious choice of bright white powder dotted around her nose, and her male counterpart was blowing his nose profusely. I thought Bonnie poor dear, needs to rub that matifying powder in properly and as for Clyde, is it allergy season already, in February? It does seem a little early for that.
The gathering crowd stood gossiping in hushed tones about the rumpus, clinging on to their sparkling flutes. A young woman sidled up next to me and gently touched me on the shoulder.
“I simply love your recipes,” She said with a smiley look in her eye
“Oh I am so pleased, do you have a favourite one?”
“Yes I do” she exclaimed, “but you know what Lorraine.”
“Know what?” I replied thinking, no, I probably don’t know what
“I’m finding it rather difficult to talk to you.”
I took a step back and looked her up and down, had I missed something?
I racked my brains for a few seconds and said
“I am so sorry; I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well Lorraine,” she began, as I waited patiently for the reply “You’re just well, you’re just too tall”.
I looked her square in the eye, raised my drink to almost cheers with hers (you can never be too careful in flu season), gave her a brief nod and then artfully shimmied away across the room.
Tell me in which universe should it be fair to state that someone’s’ body part is ‘too’ something? My first retort used to be “too tall for what, or compared to whom?” But now I am in the public eye if I respond to any personal attack with anything other than gratitude and grace, rest assured there will be a twitter rant on my feed about what a rude person that crap TV chef is. So, with the blessings of age and some semblance of maturity, I have learned to listen and hold my tongue, even in the face of height adversity.I for one would struggle not to wet myself if Robert Downey Jnr came strolling into the room. I would for sure tell him how much I love his movies and everything he has done, how I follow him on social media and think he is everything as a person. But I’ll tell you something for nothing; as my Hollywood heartthrob stands at only 5ft 8, I sure as heck wouldn’t touch his arm and whisper tenderly in his ear “Bobby darling, you’re just too short”.
I would like to put out a public plea to stop people from commenting negatively on how tall someone is. The Oh- God-you’re-just-too-tall-mantra, is often said in the tone akin to someone stating that you have a pile of steaming poop on your head. So, unless you are going to compliment a person’s height, then the best thing to do is to talk about something else or just to keep your beautiful mouth shut and put your height shaming speech in the bin.
I can’t just go strolling up to people and start saying they are too short ad infinitum. I must admit though; I did of a few years back, I am not proud of it, and I won’t be doing it again. The old halo must have slipped. I used it as a retort to a 5ft 1 lassie who was banging on to me for a good few minutes about me being too tall, asking me how the weather was up there and of course my all time favourite
“Oh please don’t wear those heels around me” gem. I bit my tongue for most of the tirade, but towards the end, I said to her
“Well, am I too tall or are you perhaps just too short?”
She stared at me with horror in her eyes. The horror soon turned to water as the rim of her eyes filled with tears. She looked (up) at me, red heart-shaped lips trembling and said as clear salty droplets started tumbling down her face
“You can’t say that! That hurts!”
She ran towards the ladies’ loos in floods of tears followed swiftly by her now Lorraine Pascale hating angry mob of tiara wearing girlfriends.I woke up the next morning after height gate, reached for my phone, rubbed my eyes, and started scrolling through my twitter feed. Nothing too unusual to report; Brexit is a God-awful mess, some ex-Premiership football player is now manager of a 2nd division club, someone made my chocolate cake for a birthday party, and it worked out pretty well and oh what did this last message say? “Met @Lorrainepascale at an event last night, What a bloody bitch.”
Photo credits top to bottom: Caitlyn Wilson, Quentin Rade, Brigitte Tohm, Titouan
If you Spot any typos let me know and I’ll correct them.