THE TRUE STORY OF THE MOJITO
THE MOJITO IS AN ICON. THE MOJITO IS THE GREATEST PUMP SHOE EVER CREATED.
THE MOJITO IS A BIT LIKE MY HPI CREATION, THIS CHILD OF WHICH I'M SECRETLY THE PROUDEST.
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW (OR NOT, DEPENDING ON HOW KEEN YOU ARE TO FIND OUT THE REST OF THE STORY) IS THAT THE IDEA FOR THE MOJITO CAME TO ME AT A TIME WHEN THE BRAND DIDN'T YET EXIST. IT HADN'T EVEN OCCURRED TO ME.
That was around twenty years ago, when I was living in a studette in the rue Dauphine, in the 6th arrondissement of Paris. A micro-apartment whose walls were being eaten away by huge toadstools. I didn't see any danger, so I didn't worry about their proliferation, thinking that it gave my flat a 'Grottes de Lascaux' feel.
Except that at a certain point, apart from the fact that it made the room very dark, I started to develop lung problems. At first I thought it was because of smoking, then joints. But it got much worse and soon I couldn't climb the stairs or even walk. I was saved by a Cuban restaurant owner just opposite my building. Seeing me suffocating, he came to my rescue and pulled me into a chair. I had run out of oxygen. I fainted.
I HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I WAS PASSED OUT.
WHEN I OPENED MY EYES, I SAW A BLUE SEA WITH A WHITE SANDY BEACH IN FRONT OF IT.
ON THIS WHITE SANDY BEACH, TIME SEEMED TO BE SUSPENDED. I WAS LYING DOWN, BREATHING EASILY, A STRIKING CONTRAST TO THE SUFFOCATING MOMENTS IN MY STUDETTE. THE CUBAN RESTAURATEUR, WHOSE FACE WAS NOW FAMILIAR TO ME, WAS STANDING NEXT TO ME, A COMFORTING SMILE ON HIS LIPS.
"YOU'RE SAFE NOW," HE SAID, HANDING ME A GLASS.
It was a mojito, fresh and sparkling, with a slice of lime and a perfect mint leaf. As I sipped it, I felt a wave of inspiration wash over me.
Wasn't that bastard trying to drug me with GHB? After all, I was quite pretty, with a great body. And I'd never seen him with any woman since his wife left him to go off with the dishwashing guy. What the hell was I doing there?
Wasn't that bastard trying to drug me with GHB? After all, I was quite pretty, with a great body. And I'd never seen him with any woman since his wife left him to go off with the dishwashing guy. What the hell was I doing there?
Perhaps it would have been better to die than to be at the end of the world with this restaurateur! I didn't trust him, but I had to admit that I was feeling better, that I wasn't gasping for breath any more.
Waking up in this unfamiliar place, far from my Parisian studette, was a disconcerting experience. The restaurateur looked at me with an expression that oscillated between concern and confidence.
"- You're safe," he repeated. "You were seriously sick because of the toadstools in your flat. I used natural remedies to cure you."
These words, though reassuring, did not entirely dispel my doubts. Nevertheless, I couldn't deny that my health had improved. My breathing was easier and a new energy seemed to be flowing through my veins. Perhaps, after all, this man really had my best interests at heart.
"- You're safe," he repeated. "You were seriously sick because of the toadstools in your flat. I used natural remedies to cure you."
These words, though reassuring, did not entirely dispel my doubts. Nevertheless, I couldn't deny that my health had improved. My breathing was easier and a new energy seemed to be flowing through my veins. Perhaps, after all, this man really had my best interests at heart.
MY PERIOD OF CONVALESCENCE WAS PUNCTUATED BY COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF MOJITOS. AS I RECOVERED, THE IDEA OF PAYING TRIBUTE TO THIS FAMOUS COCKTAIL TOOK SHAPE. IT WAS NO LONGER JUST A SHOE, IT WAS A SYMBOL OF REBIRTH, A TRIBUTE TO THE SECOND CHANCE I HAD RECEIVED.
On the launch day, the fashion world was shaken. The Mojito wasn't just a shoe, it was a story of survival, rebirth and transformation. The press and influencers were captivated not only by the shoe's innovative design but also by the fascinating story of its creation. But I kept a cool head by frequently dipping it in an ice cube tray.
THE REVIEWS WERE GLOWING. THEY PRAISED THE BOLDNESS OF THE DESIGN AND THE QUALITY OF THE WORKMANSHIP. THE MOJITO QUICKLY BECAME A TALKING POINT IN FASHION SPHERE. ORDERS POURED IN, EXCEEDING ALL MY EXPECTATIONS.
THE SHOE WAS MORE THAN A SUCCESS: IT WAS A PHENOMENON.
LOOKING BACK, I REALISE JUST HOW MUCH THIS UNEXPECTED JOURNEY SHAPED MY DESTINY. THE MOJITO WAS NOT JUST A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION, IT WAS THE FRUIT OF A LIFE EXPERIENCE TRANSFORMED INTO ART.
IT SYMBOLISES THE COURAGE TO OVERCOME ADVERSITY AND THE ABILITY TO REINVENT ONESELF.
THIS JOURNEY, WHICH BEGAN IN A PARISIAN STUDETTE OVERGROWN WITH FUNGI AND LED ME TO AN EXOTIC BEACH, WAS MORE THAN AN ADVENTURE: IT WAS A PERSONAL AND PROFESSIONAL METAMORPHOSIS. THE MOJITO, MORE THAN JUST A SHOE, HAS BECOME A SYMBOL OF RESILIENCE, INNOVATION AND A BEAUTY THAT TRANSCENDS OBSTACLES.
