Happy Feet
I move through the world on four inch spike heels. There is power in looking a person straight in the eye, instead of up. Lean, tightened muscles of calves and thighs when I am balanced on the balls of my feet show my physical self in its best light. I can portray or pretend confidence with a firm click of a shoe on a hard floor. The sensual sway of my skirt created by a high-heeled gait brings to mind other pleasures of the flesh. I like looking at my closet shelves, lined floor to ceiling with shoes in every color and style and attitude. I believe in old friends and new shoes.
It is true that taller people are presumed to have more authority and intelligence. Children learn to respect adults, all of whom are taller, and this lesson carries into adulthood as part of our psyche. In the business world, employees and clients take me more seriously if I can look them straight in the eye, or even down at them a little. I learned to wear shoes that put my eyes higher than theirs, giving me an advantage as a manager and as a salesman.
Dancers stand en pointe to give their bodies a long, graceful line from fingertips high above the head to toe tips barely touching the ground. Their bodies appear to float above the floor, as if gravity pulls less forcefully on them than mere mortals. High heeled shoes create the illusion of length, grace and beauty. A woman in high heels appears ethereal and out of reach, making her (ME!) forbidden fruit and more desirable. I am not available, but every woman likes to know she is beautiful.
High heels make a distinctive click across hard floors, announcing the arrival or departure of a woman. A timid, soft tap-tap follows a self-effacing, shy woman unwilling to draw attention to herself. Loud, uneven, stumbling thunks are the mark of a woman unused to high heels or uncomfortable in her own body. Firm, even clicking is the sound of a woman with confidence and maturity, sure of herself and the world around her. Simply hearing this pleasant sound under my own feet brings out my own confidence. The world is my oyster.
Little girls twirl around in full dresses, watching their skirts lift around them and feeling delighted with themselves. Wearing high heels is the grown-up version of this twirling. Posture is thrown off and balance changes, causing my hips to sway in a sensual and subtly sexual movement, calling to mind other physical pleasures: the taste of good chocolate, the scent of lilacs grown in great clusters, and the feel of a child’s hand tucked firmly into my own.
There are a hundred pairs of shoes in rows along my closet shelves. I choose tall boots with stacked heels to show a tough exterior or to hide a weeping heart. I choose sparkling platform pumps to show a girlie femininity and daintiness. Lace-up oxfords portray a professional and competent mien. Strappy sandals, wedges, shoeties, even my snow boots have high heels, each perfectly suiting a different attitude. I can choose a shoe to match the mood I’m in, or to create the mood I want.
I am not a flat, one dimensional woman. I play many roles and perform all sorts of different tasks. Some days I can do anything, some days I want to crawl into a hole. On the days I feel alone and scared in the world, I grab an old friend and go shopping for a brand new pair of really fabulous shoes. When my feet are happy, I can conquer the universe, capture a heart, and dream impossible dreams. My shoes and I can do anything.
