High-Heeled Shoes and Me

I have a love/hate relationship with high-heeled shoes – especially since I can no longer wear them.  If you were to follow me into a shoe store, you might find me eyeing a pair of strappy high-heeled sandals, imagining how they’d look with a certain dress.  Then, I’d sigh and move on in search of a more hip-friendly pair (flats or low heels).  Yep. That’s me, the conflicted 40+ year old woman who can’t seem to get past the fact that as far as I’m concerned, high-heeled sexy shoes have gone the way of the dodo bird.

I’ll be honest, I’m really more of a flip-flop/running shoe kind of girl.  Always have been.  So, it came as a surprise when I found myself missing these beautiful torture devices.  Seriously, who in their right mind misses the toe pinching, arch-aching experience that is high-heeled shoes? I’ll tell you – those of us who want what we can’t have…

The more I think about it, the more I think the love of high heels must be embedded in our DNA.  Don’t think so?  Watch a three-year old ~ a mega watt smile on her face as she steps into those too big pumps and walks/trips across the room.  You’ve seen it.  Seriously, we love pretty things.  We slip our feet into a pair of peep toe heels and we’re instantly transformed into Cinderella on the way to the ball.

And then there’s the movies…

Is there anything that gets under my skin more than the hapless female running in high heels as the bad guy closes in?  I don’t think so.  It’s the one time I’m yelling at the screen – “Take off the d@#% shoes!” Not only will she be able to run faster,  she’s now armed with four-inch spiked weapons.  Hmmm.  That’s an idea – a female pulverizing a bad guy with a patent leather pump.  That would be a twist – might add a little pizzazz to the standard “girl is gonna die” scenario.