I went to high school in the late 90’s, when it was required by law that all girls shoes have at least a four-inch heel, because the Spice Girls were popular and nothing shows “Girl Power” as much as limping late into math class on a twisted ankle in sweet black stretch knee-high dragon patterned boots from Hot Topic.
But in high school, walking to math class was about as far as I ever had to go, so it was easy to strut around in ridiculous heels. Once I got to college, I switched to sturdy, mid-calf Doc Martens, dependable punk boots I would stand at one of my several low-wage jobs in all day and dance in all night.
But now that I have a job that requires me to sit at my desk all day, I’m really enjoying wearing heels. The furthest I have to walk is from the bus to my office, and yesterday, when I was wearing my Betsey Johnson booties and skinny black slacks, I just about caused a traffic accident from all the drivers turning to stare. Yeah, I felt awesome.
What DIDN’T feel awesome was when I strut my stuff down to the post office, which gave me a blister and reminded me why I stopped wearing heels. But damn, I looked good, and a little ego can balm any wound.