Tag Archives: High Heels

Happy Six Months!

We’re six months into this project and already I’m seeing a real change.  I’m starting to take more pride in my appearance–learning to put on makeup, finally doing my hair (more or less; still learning) and updating my wardrobe.  

I had one of those backdoor brag moments the other day; I was at Target and realized I could no longer fit in a Jr. Size 1.  Totally bummed.  I’m a Jr. size 3 now, and at first, I panicked, because I want to be thin and pretty.  Then I tried on my size 3 shorts, and I felt GREAT.  I felt voluptuous.  I felt comfortable.  I felt really beautiful.

But most importantly, I’m learning the importance of making your partner feel special.  And that’s not just Ian, it’s Mike, it’s Matthew, it’s my sisters, it’s my father-in-law.  Everyone in every relationship likes to feel like their needs are being met.  I sure do.

I don’t think this a gendered issue and I’m not trying to make it one.  I’m not saying that women belong in the kitchen.  I’m saying people belong in the kitchen because food is awesome.  I’m learning that asking an opinion about a haircut or an outfit is important because we all crave feedback and validation.  I would want any of my friends–male or female–to say “Eh, that doesn’t really work for you” when I ask how a dress looks.  And I’m learning the value of choice.  Now if I want to put on leggings and my SVU hoodie and watch MST3K, I’m doing it because that’s what I feel like doing, not because it’s a lazy, default position, and that makes the experience something to look forward to.

And I’m revisiting things I used to love–wearing contact lenses, high heels, dark nail polish.  I’m reminding myself that I am worth the time and the energy these things require.  I like the way I look in my Betsey Johnson booties.  I like giving myself mani-pedis.  I like putting effort and energy into my outfits because just throwing on on something slopping makes me feel sloppy, and I don’t perform well unless I feel my best.  When I’m in my office in a pencil skirt and heels, I feel like working.  When I’m wearing my apron, I feel like cooking.  Maybe it’s my theater background.  Maybe it’s because I inherited my grandmother Cora’s vanity.  But whatever it is, I’m really feel like this project is teaching me.

We’ve come this far together–and I can’t wait to keep at it.

Geek Girl Goes Gams

My friend Rachel’s husband Dave is taking me out to the movies tonight, and because he teased me about my stiletto booties making noise coming down the hall, I’ll wear my brand-new American Eagle wedge sandals instead.


Wedges are the greatest shoe invention ever.  You get all the lift and strut of a heel, with less of the falling down or foot murder that is stilettos.

Day Three in Heels


If these had a Meowth and came in red, I would wear them every day of my life.

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.

Happy Birthday To Me!


How can I NOT Have a Happy Birthday When I Look This Fab?

Today, at 11:23 a.m., I will turn 30.  And I’m actually pretty thrilled about it.  Not just because I’m getting office cake (my favorite kind of cake) and Ian arranged my vanity so that all my Monster High Dollies were holding my presents, and not just because I got an MST3K box set and Epic Mickey 2, but because I feel like 30 will bring forward all these new, wonderful possibilities.  20 was fun, for the first half, but the latter just felt like purgatory: too old to goof off and stay up drinking red wine all night, too young for anyone to really take me seriously.  I was not going to be some young hip thing, so I just sort of floundered around.

But now I’m 30, and I feel like things will all fall into place.  Of course, the fact that I still LOOK 24 (stay out of the sun, avoid fast food, never go NEAR a cigarette and keep booze to a minimum) makes it that much more enjoyable.

And even though it’s press day and I have at least 9 hours of work ahead of me, at the very least, I’m wearing my favorite heels, my black and white Betsey Johnson booties, and it’s hard not to be awesome in Betsey Johnson booties.