17 September 2018 | Community

Short People Problems

Guest Blogger @LoRochelle lets us into her 4'10 world.


Written by Lauren Barker

First thing’s first:

Name: Lauren

Age: 29

Height: 4’10.


I am short (no s**t, Sherlock). And I have been since, oh I don’t know… birth?

Sometimes it’s a blessing, and sometimes it’s the curse of the century.

For example


I can comfortably curl up in an airplane seat with no issues whatsoever.



Seriously, when you’re vertically challenged, concerts are next to a waste of time, apart from the satisfaction that you’re breathing the same sweaty air as your favourite artist - unless you get a meet & greet, in which case OH MY GOD THEY TOUCHED YOU AND YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO WASH YOUR ARMS OR YOUR OUTFIT EVER AGAIN.

…But for the most part, you may as well be blind.

If you are blessed with tall legs, or even average length legs, then please read on so you can sympathise with all of us with… not so long legs:

1). We genuinely consider buying VIP purely so we can get in the venue before everyone else.

2). We literally have to queue up from the crack of dawn (okay, I may be exaggerating just a little there…) but we gotta get there from at least 2pm to even have a CHANCE of having a semi decent view. No joke.

3). Should we risk queuing up when the rest of the pack arrives… we have to settle for being able to see SWEET F ALL, and in the days prior to the concert we secretly pray to God that our friends will take pity on us and wake up early to wait in line with us - braving whatever weather Mother nature throws down. #committed

4). Of course we need to stay hydrated through mission almost-impossible-but-we’ll-try-anyway, and after all that, with no bin in sight all through the day, we damn the security guard to hell for making us waste time emptying our water bottle before entering the venue - making us lose precious time before running for our lives towards the stage.

5). Following on from my previous point - there is absolutely NO time to even consider buying a drink from the bar.

6). The only way we know the show is starting is when the crowd starts screaming & pushing us around like we fell into some sort of terrifying mosh pit.

7). It’s only 10 minutes in and we already have neck and foot ache from wobbling around on our tip toes / craning our necks like some sort of newborn, ballet trained giraffe.

8). We spend the entire gig watching the show through somebody else’s phone screen because their arms are actually long enough to record the stage, whilst simultaneously hating them for blocking our view for two hours with their stupidly long limbs.

9). Somehow, we always get stuck behind the tallest human in the whole damn building EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

10). Approximately 15 people stand on our feet / bruise our ribs / give us a nose bleed because ‘sorry, didn’t see you there’ - and now we look like we’ve been paint balling… *EYE ROLL*

And finally: We sacrifice buying merch because we absolutely LEG it round the back of the venue to wait by the tour bus in hopes we’ll actually see [insert artists name here]. Y’know… after 2 & a half hours of not seeing them AT ALL.

Feeling any sympathy yet? You should be.

Here are some simple solutions:

Make cheaper, short person tickets: Kinda like when rollercoaster rides have a sign saying ‘must be over this height’…except THIS time it’s ‘must be under this height’. I mean, if we’re gonna have a sub-par experience, we might as well get a discount, right?


Short people enter the venue first: Along with our friends, kind of like when families with young children get to board an airplane first. It’s only right.

Remove anyone who tells a short person they should have worn heels: NOT COOL, BRO.

Your move, society.