On High Heels – for Kink of the Week

“But the truth is, I want to be some woman’s work boots, not her high heels.”
“Work boots?” What was sexy about that? And did women have work boots?
“Yeah. You know, the boots she pulls out when she wants to get down and dirty, hiking or gardening or boating or painting the kitchen. The ones she relies on and trusts and lives her life hard and good and on her terms in. Her favourites.”
― Erin McCarthy, Hard and Fast

I make absolutely no secret about the fact that I am a short-arse. It’s right there, in my Twitter bio along with the fact that I wear glasses as both are two home truths in my life. It can get mightily inconvenient at times, and I often find myself wishing I had Mister Fantastic-like stretching powers just because it would make certain things a little bit less of a kerfuffle.

You’d think then, that I’d be a sucker for a pair of high heels. And I am… kind of. Not in the way you might think, anyway.

For my graduation, I got a pair of high heels from my mother to wear, as a present. I don’t even remember why I was so excited to get them because excitement quickly gave way to terror visions of tripping over a mic extension cord and falling on top of of our head of year. Still, I wore them and graduated without any major trippage occurring. In the years since, I’ve only owned one other pair of high heeled shoes. Both pairs were gorgeous, both pairs in the end only got a few outings.

Aesthetically, I fucking love high heels. Done well, they’re like tiny feats of architecture. I refer you to Rebel’s post on this subject, and the picture of her amazingly detailed and gorgeous Iron Fist shoes – I mean… LOOK AT THEM. Hours of delicate crafting, right there.

But personally, I don’t think I’d ever invest in a pair again. There’s a couple of reasons for this:

  • I have arthritis in my knees and even though I’ve often said on this blog that my body is an entity I am still learning to suss out, I am pretty fucking confident on matter of keeping whatever structure my knees still have in tact for as long as I can;
  • The idea that some people really think you’re less of a woman if you don’t wear high heels pisses me right off, especially (in my situation) for the reason mentioned above;
  • The few times I have worn them, they’ve never felt right to me;

High heels and I, we’re always going to have a complicated relationship. However, boots are a different matter. A pair of sturdy, chunky boots on my feet seems to have the same effect as a pair of high heels can have on others. I walk taller. Stand stronger. Feel like I can navigate my way through life (and London) with some form of confidence.

I trust in my boots like some trust in their high heels. They’re my favourites – the ones I rely on. But that doesn’t mean I won’t ever stop admiring a beautifully crafted pair of heels.

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3 Comments

  1. Re The convenience of being taller: In one of those “answer 25 questions about the person who sent you this an forward it to 10 more friends” memes, my make one wish” for a FWB was “I wish she was taller.” Her incredibly insightful response was “I wish everyone else was shorter.”
    Re Less of a woman: I know some who eschew high heels because to wear them would denigrate them a woman – they would be objectifying themselves.
    Re work boots: I absolutely know what you mean. When I used to wear motorcycle boots regularly, I found it impossible not to strut in them. (And don’t even get me started on how sexy a muddy pair of wellies are!)

  2. Chunky boots or high heels who cares, if they make you feel fabulous that is all that matters. Same for flats in my opinion. If you look down and what you have on your feet makes you smile then you are onto a winner

    Mollyxxx

  3. This I can relate too. I love the look of pretty heels but I’m so clumsy and awkward in them I feel far from sexy. Sturdy boots or trainers are much more my thing!

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