Share your gifts, share your stories

- Jan 26, 2023

Quote:

"Stories are a communal currency of humanity." 

Tahir Shah, in Arabian Nights

That’s what I used to tell myself. This very thought crippled me on many social occasions.

As a young woman, I used to enthusiastically share stories of my life, or others, recounting every little detail. I happen to have a rich memory bank. While I was trying to paint a picture, however, I regularly saw a glazed look come across the eyes of my audience. Often I’d get interrupted, talked over, even ignored. 

For a self-identified enthusiastic introvert, that non-verbal feedback was like a lethal injection to my teenage confidence.

I started to shy away from telling any kind of story in a group setting. I felt ashamed. I’d shrug, walking away, thinking: "I’m bad at telling stories." 

I had the privilege of working for the creative and fantastical French designer Christian Louboutin. 

His mission in life is to make women's legs look longer by designing stunning shoes featuring a lacquered red sole. 

I started out as a Saturday girl, in the London boutique. Christian called one day. My bosses being absent, I picked up the phone, and we had a chat. Both native French speakers, we slipped into the kind of intimacy language can offer, dropped the formalities saying ‘tu’ to each other immediately. That day, he asked what was happening in the store. And I told him... everything! Everything about my clients, who they were, and what they liked, the shoes they were buying, the heels that were breaking (yes, that happened quite a bit back then).

He called again, asking for me this time. We chatted some more.  

A year and a half later, Christian and I finally met in person at a party in Notting Hill. I remember teetering down the street towards the house party, wearing light blue denim jeans, a nude suede peplum top and peach round-toe stilettos, his own of course, I could barely walk in, You see, the universe has a sense of humour: I was given lax ankles and a 17-year career for a shoe designer famous for his towering creations.

Christian and I sat on a corner bench and tucked away, we chewed each other’s ears off. His partner laughed, and noted: "Well, you two have chemistry!" giving us a wink. 

I asked: Why the red sole?

He told me the story of how he’d designed Mary Jane pumps in brightly coloured crepe de chine, inspired by Andy Warhol’s poppies, but that when the first prototype came out of the factory, something wasn’t right. 

Unlike his drawing, the shoes were weighed down by their black leather sole. 

In a moment of inspiration, he stole his assistant’s nail polish and started painting the soles, turning them bright red. The rest is history. 

As I started to get to know him, I regaled clients with stories of Christian, like that time when I almost tripped over him as I walked into the showroom. He was lying down, on his stomach, and he was busy cutting across the vamp, or décolleté, of a pair of shoes while they were on the foot of our colleague and foot model, Laetitia. Like I said, he was trying to make her legs look longer. Not that Laetitia needed any help in that department.

Christian’s business partner decided to put me in charge of wholesale as well PR for the UK. Pitching to a journalist isn’t unlike selling a collection to a department store or selling a pair of shoes to a lady in a boutique, it’s all a form of sale, just with a different transaction at the end. I took on the challenge.

The information flowed from one side to the other and back again. This happened naturally. 

Between our natural storytelling approach — Christian himself is quite the storyteller — the recognisable nature of his red soles and his boundless creativity, it was only a matter of time before we reached global success. 

Are the women who can afford his shoes just buying a pair of shoes? Or is it the mystique of the red sole? Or the fact they are made by hand in Italy? Or perhaps following their desire for longer legs? 

Stories are like a window we can look through and discover someone’s world, their values, their quirks. 

I brought people close by leaning on that skill I thought I lacked. Turns out my natural enthusiasm and this memory bank full of details were just the tool I needed. 

And some great shoes, of course.

One thing led to another. I went from shop manager to wholesale and PR executive to general manager before becoming the brand’s first global head of communications. 

I helped spread the word to all four corners of the globe.

After I left Louboutin, I felt compelled to learn more about storytelling, unaware of where that could lead me. And now, I write stories and share my own. I even draw out other people’s stories via my podcast, Out of the Clouds. 

My mission is to empower others, to empower YOU to tell a better story.  

Whether you need help reclaiming or reframing your narrative. 

Today, I help individuals from all walks of life uncover authentic stories that resonate with their audience; and I coach those who, like me when I was younger, need a little help with their communication skills. 

Why does this matter, you may ask? 

I recently heard Adam Grant, author and professor at Wharton, say this: