This is a post about a dazzling night in Los Angeles complemented by a tall, thin statue; gorgeous women dressed in designer gowns, heels, and expensive jewelry; and a host who gave new meaning to the phrase “edgy humor.” But more importantly, this is a post about falling down, getting back up, and showing the world that yes, it is a bitch to walk up and down the stairs in heels and a floor-skimming gown.
Jennifer Lawrence poured her heart and soul out in an unforgettable performance in the movie Silver Linings Playbook. Last night was her night. Dressed in a Dior Haute Couture gown, she was a vision on the red carpet. But then they called her name. As she made her way down the aisle and up the stairs to accept her Oscar for Best Supporting Actress, Jennifer Lawrence endured a moment that made every woman in America and around the world gasp out loud, cover our eyes, and say to the person next to us on the couch, “Doing a face plant in front of God, the Academy, and Hugh Jackman is my absolute worst nightmare!”
I think I speak for 99.99% of women everywhere today when I say my heart goes out to Jennifer Lawrence. Personally, I probably wouldn’t have even made it halfway down the aisle before lying down in the fetal position and sucking my thumb, because I think there’s nothing worse in my mind than having millions of people watch me shakily make my way down a little hill on two tiny stilts while secretly thinking I look eerily like Steve Martin during his famous SNL skit “Two Wild and Crazy Guys.”
But Jennifer Lawrence did it. She made it to the stairs. She only had a few more feet to go before she had her moment in the spotlight—the moment she had dreamed of her whole life—getting her acceptance speech in before the orchestra began playing. And then she stepped on her hem, fought a short-lived battle with gravity, and, in a matter of seconds, stuck her nose on those overly waxed steps, and wished she could have been anywhere else but there.
I’m just guessing here, but I think nearly all of us have been there. In high school, I was a server at a local hamburger restaurant known for their giant hot fudge sundaes served in glasses the size of Lake Superior. I wish I could tell you I was wearing heels, a floor-skimming gown, and a gorgeous smile, but I wasn’t. I was wearing nurse’s shoes, a grimace, suntan pantyhose, and a skirt that left absolutely nothing to even the wildest of imaginations. As I tore around the corner with a giant sundae in each hand, my feet somehow found the only puddle of water in the entire restaurant. Right there in front of the statue of Chubby Burger, a cook that resembled Hugh Jackman on his worst day, and a long line of customers that were hungry, crabby, and just waiting for some type of entertainment to pass the time, I spun three times, landed in a heap with my nose pressed to the cold tile, and exposed the world to much more than they ever imagined.
Unfortunately that moment seemed to be the start of something bigger. A few weeks later, I unintentionally did the disco splits while attempting to walk on a brick street in a pair of high-heel sandals. Then I fell outside church while wearing a pair of platform shoes. If that wasn’t bad enough, I tripped on my pant hem and somersaulted down the steps in front of a horrified group of strangers at an auditorium. As I laid there and sniffed the carpet, I was just happy I managed to keep my stilettos on my feet during the fall.
I’m happy to report that today I’m still on a roll … literally. Laugh if you want, but I think it takes a lot of perseverance to still be as uncoordinated as I was in 1978. So, for that reason, Jennifer Lawrence, I’m proud of you for being brave enough to take on the role of a lifetime, win a prestigious award, and then show us that indeed, you are just like us after all.
“Fall seven times, stand up eight.” (Japanese Proverb)
By Vicky DeCoster, All Rights Reserved