Home > Buenos Diaz > Those heels weren't a deal
Those heels weren't a deal
By Gloria Diaz
Check out Gloria's Blog — Edge of Gloria!
Fort Wayne Reader
This is a warning to the guys out there: this is a ďgirlyĒ column. But come to think of it, you might want to keep on reading. Itís about shoes. Particularly, high heels. (You KNOW you like them ó on us, that is.)
There are different facets of being a woman. Some of them are enjoyable, particularly if you have car trouble and are lucky enough to find a guy who is willing to help. Guys are into cars, and I think their ego gets stroked if they can help you out of a jam. Thereís also the confidence a woman gets when she puts on a certain outfit and knows she looks damn good; thereís a reason why that truck is still sitting at the intersection. Itís because youíre wearing that little black dress, and you know you look good. (And so does the driver.)
There is a particular facet of being a woman Iíve never been able to enjoy, and that is the art of walking in high heels. Iíve never been able to do it, no matter how many YouTube videos I watch, no matter how many times I walk with one foot right in front of the other, like experts say to do. No matter how hard I try, I just canít walk in high heels. The other day I put on my platforms, the ones with the sturdy heel, and my foot literally slid off the sole. The shoe was still attached to my ankle by a couple of straps. Totally not sexy. And I felt like a failure.
For years, Iíve wondered why I canít walk in heels that are more than an inch and a half. Iíve observed how my foot falls when I walk, and I walk on the outer edge of my feet to such an extent, that the outer heels of my shoes are totally worn down. The inside heels look exactly the way they did the day I bought the shoes. The outside edges, on the other hand, look like someone has spent eight hours a day, five days a week sanding them down with a file. When I point my bare foot, it looks like someone amputated my three smallest toes, because the only ones that are visible are the big toe and the one beside it. I went on the Internet, and from what I understand, I suffer from extreme under-pronation. Pictures of peopleís shoes looked like mine: the outer heels worn down, the inner heels barely touched. So Iím not the only one. Donít know if thereís a cure for it or not, but when you walk on the outer edge of your foot, and your heel is supported by a stiletto as thin as a pencil, and the actual part that is in contact with the ground is no bigger than your pinky nail, youíre asking for a twisted ankle, or worse. I can slink around in bare feet, but put me in heels, and it just isnít sexy. Iíve managed to walk in those platforms I told you about earlier, but itís difficult, and I tend to weave a little bit, as if Iíve had a few drinks. Who knows, maybe that adds to the attraction men seem to have for these things.
Iím kinda bummed, because I got a great deal on some Etienne Aigner shoes at Goodwill. They are very conservative looking pumps, and I thought perhaps some designer heels might be constructed a little better; therefore I could manage to walk in them. I wore them for the first time to class tonight. You know itís a bad sign when the shoes are on and your GOOD knee starts to hurt before youíve left the house. Add twenty pounds of baggage, and the torture begins. I made it through class and a brief trip to the store, but as soon as I got home, the shoes came off. They are beautiful to look at, but Iím not sure if I should get brand new heels put on, to get a better grip. That might make them a little easier to walk in, but then again, it might not. Iíve tried that trick before.
So that all important skill of walking in high heels will forever elude me, I think. Iíll look at them in the store window, I might even pick one up and coo over it, but as for forcing my foot into it (that bunion is making shoe buying depressing, as it looks like I have an extra toe, thus making my foot about a half inch wider) I donít think I will. When I do make the attempt, I feel like one of Cinderellaís stepsisters, an ungainly Bigfoot who will never score the cool shoes.
On the other hand, I can always console myself with that scene from Single White Female where the weird roommate stabs her roommateís boyfriend in the eye with a stiletto heel. An eye socket is a good place for a shoe like that ó especially if a certain guy likes you to wear them, and you know damn well your under pronation problem wonít let you. You walk in these shoes, dickwad, I feel like going for a hike ó while you carry me on your back.