High heeled shoes. They can be such a pain to wear, both literally and figuratively. They can be sexy. They can be clunky. They can be cutesy.
I’m very short (I have to stretch a bit to reach the 5 foot mark) so as soon as my parents allowed me to, I started wearing high heeled shoes and when they came into style, platform shoes which were far easier to wear than heels and more appropriate for certain occasions. They made me look taller and in the days of hot pants, they made my legs look a lot longer than they are and those seemingly good legs brought some (not unwanted) attention. In fact, I remember one boy in our senior year that once, when I got back to my desk from the table at the front of the room, asked me to go back to the table and then back to the desk just so he could look at my legs again! That was the first time anyone said anything like that to me. It was flattering. It was embarrassing (he said it loud enough so everyone heard). It was confusing (I wasn’t in to the physical appearance factor but this comment actually made me feel kinda good).
Fast forward seven years and my high heel wearing days were over. When I was 25 I was in a head-on collision. I was pregnant at the time and luckily, my knee took the blow and not my belly. I’ve had six operations to repair the damage to my knee but it has never been fixed and to this day I can no longer wear any kind of heel or wedge or plaform. It is “flat city” for me. Sometimes I really miss the high heeled shoes.