In My Shoes
As soon as he spotted us by the bar, my friend commented, “Everybody is on stilts tonight!”
“Stilettos.” I corrected him. “Can you even walk in them?” He sniggered. “Of course we can!”
We roared back with a balancing grab for the bar.
Hearing us sigh as we piled into our cars later in the evening, the same friend chirped, “Why don’t you girls just wear heels that are simply comfortable?”
“Nobody who has ever walked in heels would every make such an oxymoronic comment!” I instantly shot back.
But come on! Who can possibly resist those strappy Manolos in all their defiant designs? So what if our first breaking-in steps are wobbly? Wait. There is no breaking-in for our high heels. Yet, each pair in our crowded shoe cabinet is an apprised prize.
So what if some of them nudge us to our toes! When in painful doubt, we simply grab a reflection to remind us of our staggeringly curvy pose precariously balanced on those spectacularly tall shoes. And misery loves company: we have our supporting stilt-sisters in case the night stretches into the pink skies. The cry is stifled. We hold hands and walk a straight spine to the next venue. Divas are not built from the weak, flat-soled common girl.
For the love of poise, we do not embarrass these beautiful pencils by kicking them off halfway through the night when things get a tad bit uncomfortable. Women who do this simply don’t get the idea of marvellous heels that radiate your oomph.
Stilettos are so you feel like an erogenous vixen. Stilettos are so you feel each strut, even if on a crater-like road is one on the red carpet. Stilettos are so you can feel every gaze swerve away and onto you. Stilettos are because they make you feel like you. With stilettos, suddenly a peeping food bump retracts into the abdomen, fills the butt to look like Karlie Kloss’s photoshopped rear, and has the heart thumping into an impressive mould of perky protrusions.
So how can you expect us to possibly go dancing, walk the green pastures to a secret soiree in the woods, spend a day on a swaying yacht, and host a busy brunch without our stilettos? It would be a shame to forsake our fabulousness for a little bit of spoilt comfort. No woman worth her Choo would do so.