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Race Day, 2005:

We jumped awkwardly from the bus, our high-heels scraping on the pavement as we sprinted to the bottle-o for more drinks. It was raining, and the street was filled with stumbling men and women carrying their shoes, sitting in curbs with their hair stuck to their face, and wiping their foreheads with colourful stained ties.Everyone looked like shit. But isn’t that the typical race day experience?

Heading home from the supermarket, my friend ‘S” mischievously folded her long legged body into one of the nearby shopping trolleys, while I – catching on – jumped behind it and began running down the street; gaining momentum as I pushed her along.

The rain fell, coating us in little spots of liquid – but we had not a care in the world.

Clutching her bottles of wine as she rattled around in the steel cage of the trolley, we laughed raucously, calling out to each other in loud, raised voices as though we were two friends separated by a large crowd, trying to speak over the noise of a band.

But of course, there was no band. Just two young women – one in a shopping trolley – shouting drunkenly (but happily) at each other on the street.

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Rihanna & Cara who? I’m sure they must have gotten the idea for this shoot from us (although I’m a little confused about drinking perfume. Sigh, you’d think they could afford something better?) Source

Picking up speed in an attempt to beat the rain, I pushed on. And honestly, it was all going fine…that is, until the trolley caught on something and abruptly upturned. The next thing we knew, S was flying out of her (previously) safe mode of transport and landing harshly on the wet bitumen.

Catching myself before I also fell, I righted myself and ran towards S, kneeling down on the pavement with a worried look on my face. Scanning my eyes across the scene before me, I felt a panic begin to settle. 

I looked down frantically, calling out loudly to my friend.

“My $40 lip gloss! Where is it?!’

I’d like to blame this moment solely on my inebriated state of mind, but in my defense, this wasn’t just any lipgloss. This was a Lancome Juicy Tube after all! Priorities, ladies!

Me, at the time:

Me now: 

Looking back, I really feel for my friend when I remember this story. However, luckily for me, both my lip gloss – and more importantly – my friend, were fine.

This post forms part of a mini series called ‘From the Vault: memories of childhood, adolescence and adulthood.’ If you’re enjoying these posts, please rate and comment, and be sure to follow me on facebook! 

Feature image sourced from Mamiverse
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