The Posh Paw Blog

Have you ever broken a bone?

Darling, have I ever broken a bone? Oh sugar… yes. And let me tell you, it wasn’t on some exotic ski slope in the Alps or a daring rooftop rescue—no, no. It was during a dance class.

Let’s rewind.

There I was, mid-Swing-out, full of flair and fabulousness. I’d just nailed a tricky combo, caught my reflection in the studio mirror, and thought, Yes, Lucy Beaumont, you are the moment. Confidence? Sky-high. Awareness of my surroundings? Practically zero.

One rogue heel slipped on a stray water bottle cap (left on the floor by some well-meaning but tragically forgetful beginner). My ankle twisted like a pretzel at a picnic—and crack! Just like that, a dainty little fracture in my fifth metatarsal. That’s dancer-speak for: “your foot said no, darling.”

Of course, I tried to play it off like nothing happened. Sat down, reapplied lipstick, told everyone I “just needed a moment.” Then limped all the way home pretending I was just breaking in a new pair of vintage slingbacks.

The next morning? Swollen. Purple. Unmistakably broken.

The doctor said, “You need to rest.” I said, “Can I rest with rhythm?”

A few weeks in a jazzy little air cast, some very stylish hobbling, and voilà—I healed. But oh, sugar, the lesson stayed.

I’ve learned that sometimes, even the most fabulous among us stumble (preferably to the rhythm of Count Basie), and that pride, much like bones, can bruise if you don’t tread mindfully.

So yes—I broke a bone. But I gained a story, a scar with swing, and a reminder that fabulousness sometimes limps before it struts again.

Stay fabulous,
Luce 💋

Last Week’s Star Performance:
“The Art of Juggling Work, Life, and Fabulousness” stole the show, darling. From spreadsheets to sequins.

If you missed it, catch the high-wire act here:
👉 Read it now