I wonder who decided fashion and torture should be interchangeable – probably some man trying to curb his wife’s spending.
Every time I pass a college coed balanced precariously on five-inch stilettos, I feel the urge to show her my feet and warn that this is her future.
a vocal segment of our society is occupying Wall Street and whining about capitalism, I’m preparing to picket the shoe manufacturers and demand a recall on high heels everywhere. Like cigarettes, sky-high heels should be forced to carry a warning of their serious health consequences. At least they should require a helmet and ski poles.
I should know. I wore high heels every day of my life for 40 years – the higher the better. I tottered around taking those teeny little steps, bent slightly at the waist in order to maintain my balance. If you knew me back then, you know that I also wore a permanent grimace on my face from the pain of it all.
About seven years ago it became painful to walk. I went to the orthopedist and he recommended orthotics – to the tune of $400. They helped for a while until my bones became permanently deformed and my feet are now shaped like the pointy toes of the alligator pumps that were my trademark.
Last week, the media confirmed that it’s been scientifically proven that high heels are dangerous for women’s feet. Some doctors have compared the wearing of high heels to the feudal Chinese custom of binding the feet to keep them small. Thank goodness, I’m hoping Uggs and Reebok will come out with a sparkly model for church and cocktail parties.
Fashion history notes that heels on shoes were a simple matter of practicality. Mongolian horsemen were among the first to discover that heels would keep their feet from sliding out of their stirrups. The Romans, both men and women, wore platform heels to keep they feet protected from the mud and garbage on the streets.
Your little black book contains only names ending in MD.