So what is it with women and shoes? Not all women, I should say. There are some very practical girls out there who actually wear shoes to fit the occaision, but I am definitely not one of these women. And let me tell you right now, wearing heels must be one of the most dumbest things I do on a regular basis. Case in point:
I ordered these darling black strappy things online a couple of weeks ago, along with a killer pair of jeans. I couldn't wait to get them. I thought about them everyday until they finally arrived (is this normal?). Joey brought in the mail so the package was sitting on the table and I ripped it open like Christmas, only it was better because it was 95 degrees outside.
And there they were. My darling shoes. I tried them on and sure enough they felt a little snug around the edges, but definitely wearable.
We had Andrew's birthday party that day, so of course I am going to wear my new things. I put on my jeans, which gaped a little in the waist (darn Old Navy!) so I had to find a belt.
I found this old, semi charming but mostly just old belt and tried it on for size. It fit, but only when the pants were as high as they could go around my waist, and the belt still pulled so tightly that the jeans folded and rumpled in this one spot in the back, so they ended up dipping below the belt in that one spot. Are you following me? It wasn't pretty.
But I said o well, I'll just wear a longer shirt (I spent the entire day pulling my shirt down to cover the gap. Sit down? Pull the shirt down. Get up? Pull the shirt down. Walk two steps? Pull the shirt down).
The shoes made the pants fit perfectly. I need the extra two or so inches to keep the pants from dragging on the floor, even though I order "short" and "petite" sizes. In fact, this is the main reason for me wearing heels in the first place: to keep the bottoms of the jeans looking clean and intact, instead of looking like they were just run through a shredder.
That and they fact that they make my legs look longer.
The day started out fine, but after about three minutes of walking around the house in my darling strappys I knew I had it in for myself. Still, I wore the shoes.
By the end of the day, my feet felt that same achiness that I associate with labor pain. The poor babies were swollen and a little on the purple side, with two blisters, one on the outside of each foot, just below the pinkie.
The next day was school and I still was in the "googly-eyed" state with my jeans (I had decided the shoes weren't quite what I had expected) so there was no question in my mind that I would wear the new jeans to school. The only question was what shoes to wear...
I decided on some brown, sexy Brazilian heels I brought back when Joey and I visited a couple of years ago.
I knew I would have to walk slow, and I warned Joey: "Joey, I am in these heels..."
He cut me off, "--I know, I know. We have to walk slow. Why do you wear those to school?"
Now up until this point I had never considered not wearing heels to school. But as we were walking down the almost San Fransican type hill from where we park to my class, Joey holding out his hand, ready to catch me in case I tumbled, which could happen at an moment, me looking like a clutsy hoochy, I thought about this.
Why did I wear these heels to school?
After class and two miles worth of walking later Joey and I headed back up to the car.
"Could you please walk fast like you normally do and go on ahead and get the car and come back to pick me up?" My feet were on fire. I had two new blisters on the under side of my feet, in the middle, where the flesh is raw and young. How those heels rubbed me there I don't know; all I know was the pain I felt each time I lifted a fit to move foward. "Please?"
He just gave me an "I-told-you-so" smile and kept walking turtle slow, keeping with my pace.
The next day I gave my feet a rest. I wore flip flops. They felt better, less swollen. Some of the bisters had formed scabs, the others seemed like they would go away on their own.
But, guess what shoes I have on today? The second I put them on I started praying I would find a close parking spot for work, which I did, but it is still a good half a football field away. Maybe even a whole one, I don't know how big football fields are. Anyway, it was a long walk. And those tender blisters returned.
Which brings me to this moment.
Are heels worth it? Absolutely not. Will I keep wearing them? After today, I probably will wait a week or so, until I forget the pain. Maybe it will take a month. Sometimes it does. But I aways find my self back to that point in the closet, wearing some fabulous jeans that are just a tad too long, thinking...hmmmm, what shoes should I wear?