All the reasons I wore heels no longer exist for me. Forget the fat ankles. Forget about looking tall. Forget about trying to entwine one leg around the other like poison oak climbing a tree trunk just to look sexy. Duh-ream on. Since my foot wear might have aggravated the curvature in my spine and the osteoarthritis in my hip, I’m not taking any chances.
I’m like the kid who walked with crutches as he approached the platform at his college commencement ceremony. As soon as they gave him his degree, he threw the crutches into the air and shouted, “I can walk!”
I have left that majority of women who vow to wear uncomfortable shoes because they look good. The transformation takes a bit of getting used to, I’ll admit.
Lanny said the other day, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m not wearing heels, and I’m shorter.”
“Shorter! You could walk under the coffee table. I thought short women were supposed to wear heels to make them look taller.”
“Woody Allen wears sneakers, and no one worries about his height,” I said.
“That’s because men never play the game women play,” he countered.
Unknowingly, he had put his finger on the problem. Men have always dressed comfortably. Think about it. Would a man wear anything with a zipper he couldn’t reach? Of course not.
You don’t see a man sitting around all night in pain because a label (made out of double-edged razor blade) is digging into his neck every time he moves his head. Only women do that. Men have labels that are unflappable. And more important, you don’t see a man fishing around the floor of a theater with his feet to find his shoes so he can get them back on before the lights come up.
I think I’ll plan a road trip to Albany, Indiana. There on their little town square is a shoe tree. Locals and tourists have tossed hundreds of shoes up in that oak tree for years, and I understand it’s something to see. I’d like to pitch my ouchers up in the Albany shoe tree.
Yes sirree. You can snicker at my sneakers all you want, but I feel good about myself. I’m secured enough not to care about what other people think, but about how I feel. To add to my comfort, I bought a pair of slip-on Skechers. With my hip-high shoe horn, it’s easy on, easy off.
Tomorrow is the test. I’m going outside in them.