Well, most often a foot, and in lore an old lady who had so many children she didn’t know what to do. But I’m kicking it up a notch.
The above is what I finally, FINALLY put up for sale on eBay yesterday. I got them maybe ten years ago and wore them but a handful of times because, let’s face it, they’re stilts and I’ve never been to clown college. That’s my foot in the picture–I know, I have no arch and my toes are freakishly finger-like–but I was sitting down when my husband took it. Had I been standing, the pressure of my entire 155 pounds would have been concentrated on the balls of my foot. The heel is four inches high, a troubling fact mitigated only by the 3/4″ platform in the front.
These shoes were exactly as nutty when I bought them pre-Formerly, and I have gotten saner. Still, it took me years to bid them adieu, and there’s a small part of me that hopes no one bids on them. They are a cross between Candies and motorcycle boots, which to me is the ultimate in tough slutwear. I have never been tough, and I’ve long since reclaimed and neutralized the word “slut,” thus rendering it meaningless, but still, who can argue with these? They’re Frye. I love Frye.
But more important, they are symbols of a time when form was way more important than function, when no one expected me to be anywhere on time, or to have to walk at all, for that matter, and when I wasn’t married to someone who is only an inch or two taller than I am. These shoes, while not made for walking, were made for kicking off and dancing all night, then staggering home at 4 AM to pass out without washing your makeup off.
They make much better symbols than shoes, don’t they?
September 15, 2009 at 10:00 am
Ooh, love. But I would need 3 layers of gel inserts and a car service to wear them.
September 15, 2009 at 11:16 am
What size are you? I’ll buy them if they’re a 7.5! Of course, I’m in the same boat as you are–no arch, 40+ feet, diminishing ability to balance on 1-square-inch of heel. But hey, if the shoe fits…
Also, I still have to teeter around on occasion at work to convince the gods of 4 Times Square that I do indeed have what it takes to walk the walk! 🙂
September 15, 2009 at 11:21 am
they really are fabulous. but they’re like the too-small clothes in my closet that taunt me. NUKE ‘EM.
September 15, 2009 at 7:21 pm
I’m confused about what your husband’s height has to do with your shoes. Is it really that important that women be shorter than their male partners? We’re okay with women who are with younger men, why not shorter? (Would younger *and* shorter men be over the top?) For me, aging has meant that I’m more willing to consider a man who is shorter than I am, as long as he’s okay with it and isn’t going to make me give up any of my shoes. It’s been liberating to not feel apologetic about my natural or shoe-induced height. In fact, I own more pairs of four inch heels now than I did in my 20’s! If you like tall shoes, wear them!!
September 15, 2009 at 10:11 pm
I read a quote which I cannot attribute (sorry) “The right shoe can change your life…ask Cinderella”, THAT:s what’s in a shoe. Those of us with good legs and pretty feet need to hang on to my 88 year old mother’s comment: Thank God, good legs never go…everything else may but the legs last.” She was right and I (and my 27 year old daughter inherited them). My best friend has beautiful hair; red, thick and she pays for a good cut and believable color.Let us choose to celbrate the best in us; not mourn what is lost with aging. It IS a choice.
September 20, 2009 at 11:07 am
Frank Zappa summed this whole phenomenon up pretty nicely in a ballet spanning twenty-one tableaux:
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EfH7QQM5cK8/SqWj-EHFixI/AAAAAAAADVg/nM1a1vUQKcA/s1600-h/AZA%25203.jpg