Women love shoes. That’s the stereotype, and I happily contribute to the stereotype.
Shoes of every hue for every outfit, shoes for different hemlines, shoes that give my stride a bit of strut.
When I worked in D.C., I would wear flat shoes to make the endless commute and change into my sky-high heels to mince around the office. Because, even though I could barely walk in some of those shoes, they were the weapon of choice for women who wanted to flaunt their power. They made me feel tall—I’m not—and long-legged—again, I’m not. That's why we all wear heels. Tall and long-legged: pure sex magnet, right?
But when I moved to Charleston, I had to renegotiate the footwear power contract. I know I see lots of you wearing towering heels, especially on Upper King weekend nights, but I can’t do it.
Our sidewalks settle and slide, creating dangerous slopes and cracks. Stilettos stick between cobblestones. They have cobblestones in Italy too, and I watched high-heeled women walking with grace in Italy, but I am only half Italian and I think my feet are the mutt half of me.
And now, this article from Time magazine is making the social media rounds. Turns out, those high heels are making us have geisha feet. Bound and deformed.
I may still carry heels with me to slip on for a dinner date, when I can sit at a table and artfully cross my legs. But I want to dance, I want to run if I need to, and I want to kick some ass. It’s just easier to do that in flats.
Now, about those flip-flops…