Remember when I wrote about my inadequacies with makeup? Well, my relationship with women's shoes is kind of like that too.
Oh, to be sure, I wore heels most of my adult life, and it seemed fine. But gradually it destroyed certain joints in my feet, and 10 years ago I had surgeries to repair the damage. Since then I really haven't worn heels at all, and my feet just don't work that way anymore!
Don't ask me why, but when the lyrics in my solo for the Purim schpiel referred to "my platform shoes" I decided it was time to get a pair, and worse -- to wear them! That's when the comedy began. Have you ever seen a man trying to walk in women's shoes? That was me! You'd think I had never worn heels in my life. Hurky-jerky steps, sticking desperately to the carpeted areas, like a toddler again.
I practiced walking every day, and managed to get through our play without twisting my ankle. Of course, today my feet hurt, my legs hurt, my butt hurts, and my back hurts. But hey, they were GOLD PLATFORM SHOES! How could I resist?
And therein lies the mystery. These things are so ridiculous... perching your entire body's weight up on your poor little toes, with nothing but thin golden straps holding the shoes on. But no matter how rationally I know that, no matter how strongly the feminist in me resents them, I must admit.... a part of me still loves pretty shoes, sparkly shoes. Why? Sigh, there's a lot to be said for culturally ingrained aesthetics.
10 hours ago