Thoughts on heels

Embedding was disabled for this video for some reason, but check it out.  It’s quite funny and fits nicely with this blog.

Kitten.

One inch.

Two inch.

Three inch – four??

Ladies, if I tell you I’m wearing kitten heels, you’ll probably think my shoes are cute, comfortable, and maybe a little safe. If I tell you I’m wearing a pair of four-inch heels, you will automatically feel my pain. It’ll probably begin with your toes, which, in four-inch heels, are crunched up at the front of the shoe, scoot down to your heel, which aches with every step you’ve taken in aforementioned heels, encompass your entire stuffy, scrunched-in foot, and travel up to your calf muscle, which also experiences a work out to keep you stabilized in these beautiful heels.

See, that’s the problem, isn’t it? Heels are hot, as Amy Farrah Fowler so adequately said, just not in quite those words. First, there’s the mere pain of heels. Granted, some aren’t uncomfortable, but for some reason I’ve noticed the prettier a heel, the more pain that will come with it – which is why women usually put on heels and say to themselves, “No pain, no gain.” I’m not sure what we’re trying to gain with heels – men, maybe, but married women wear heels, too. Still, the answer is probably men – our husbands in this case (hopefully).

Then, for me, at least, there’s the problem of walking in heels. I’m fairly good at walking on flat surfaces in any size of heel. However, as I noticed when we went to a friend’s wedding last October, when you’re not prepared for gravel or steep declines and inclines and holes in bridges where your heels can catch, heels are the devil. As I learned from sad, sad experience. But even on flat surfaces, I still have to walk aware. Why? Because of the sound. You all know the sound; there’s a resonance heels make when the individual who is wearing them is walking properly. Click, click, click, click. Steady, sophisticated, sexy. Here’s how I usually sound wearing heels: click, slomp, click, click, splat. The splat, by the way, is from hitting something on the ground that makes that sound, not me falling. I don’t walk properly to begin with. I don’t know why; maybe it’s the same reason why I can’t walk in a straight line. But when I wear heels, I have to make care that in a quiet hall with people around, they sound perfect. Because I’m crazy like that…am I the only one?

Probably.

However, let’s go back to the main point: heels are hot. As I was dressing for work this morning, I had the option: black flats…or four-inch eggplant purple heels. I weighed my options. I teach class today, which means walking across campus, teaching for two hours, and walking back to my office. Lots of standing, lots of walking. My feet were going to ache today.

But those purple heels were oh, so cute…

But the flats were oh, so practical…

So which did I choose?

I got to work this morning fairly early, and, as I was walking to my office building, I spotted her: the individual who is, quite frankly, the bane of my existence. If I must have a mortal enemy, it is her. We all have those individuals who just grate on our nerves, but she takes the cake in my life. She spotted me. And I (for once, ha!) just ignored her.

But as soon as we passed, I grinned. I was dressed quite cute, my hair looked fantastic, and I was wearing my four-inch purple heels.

Heels are hot.