I started dancing when I was 2 1/2. As many people know, dancers often shove their feet into ridiculously small, painful shoes (toe shoes, “character” shoes or tap shoes), so we’re used to pain. REAL dancers – those in a corps or at least those who spend many, many days a week dancing – wrap their toes in sheep’s wool to help protect them when they’re balancing all of their weight on the tip of their toes. Point of this rambling is that I used to dance; therefore, I am no stranger to painful feet.
Why, then, am I completely incapable of walking in high heels as an adult? Just watching Carrie Bradshaw teetering in her Manolos makes me cringe, knowing that I’d make it a half of a block, take off my shoes, and say a silent prayer that I didn’t step on a hyperdermic needle. I don’t know if I’ve ever made it through a wedding – or hell, an entire evening – in high heels…even in college you could often find me, pizza slice in one hand, shoes in the other, wandering down Franklin Street after a big night on the town.
Take today. I got up early (to watch the Today Show wedding, my yearly guilty pleasure even if Cody’s hair really was a travesty-in-the-making), showered, and spent a leisurely morning getting ready at my own pace. Put off running until later this evening or – at the worst, tomorrow – because damn. It’s Friday. And sometimes I like moving slowly in the mornings. I dressed with care (note that I’ve been attempting to be a bit more businesslike in my attire; that, and my favorite jeans are presently a WEE bit too tight, so black pants have been donned on more than one occasion this week) and even curled my hair. Yes, you read that correctly. I. CURLED. MY. HAIR. Anyway, I chose my new pair of black heels – a steal from Target, which is good since I hate buying shoes – and strode out my front door only a few minutes late to catch the bus.
Except “striding” soon turned to “wobbling” and after a few blocks, that evolved into “hobbling”. At this point, I should have promptly turned around, gone home, and put on my one pair of cute low-ish heels, also from Target lest you think my cheap shoe purchase is correlated to my inability to walk in them. Nope – not the case. But, since I humored myself by watching a few extra minutes of The Today Show, I didn’t want to be late and figured that I’d rest my tootsies in my bunny slippers that I keep at work for this exact purpose. Only by the time I walked the block and a half from the train to my office, I could barely move my feet were in such pain.
9am and we have a problem.
So, at lunchtime, I stopped at this awesome store, “Jeremy’s”, that sells designer clothing and shoes at a fraction of the price. There wasn’t a huge selection in the “Size 8″s but alas, I found a pair of Charles David footie boots and regardless of the price, they were a relief to my feet when I stepped in them so decided to make the purchase. $18 later (note that these boots retailed for well over $100 – I love a deal) I was walking to lunch with friends when I realized that I could barely walk in THOSE EITHER. Seriously. What is my problem? Is my future confined to ballet flats forevermore?
Those boots might be made for walkin’, but if they have a heel, they weren’t made for me.
Originally posted on aubs.vox.com