A lax style of footwear

I hate shoes.

I’d rather go barefoot than wear boots. I’d rather wear sneakers than stilettos. I’d rather flip and flop than pump.

I’m trying to be fashionable, I really am. I’m experimenting with new styles, exploring new color combinations and searching for new accessories. But most of all, I’m trying to be comfortable and confident with my clothes.

But I can’t do it when I’m fearing for my life in four-inch heels.

I don’t want to make my whole group of friends, often consisting of smug guys in comfy gym shoes, slow down for me. When I’m walking across the grass, I hate praying my heel doesn’t sink into the muddy ground. Descending stairs, I shouldn’t have to hold onto the railing to keep from falling on my face. And if I miss the train because I have lost the ability to walk briskly, I’ll be pretty upset.

Why do all the others put up with it? I’m sure I’m not the only shoe-ically challenged girl out there.

Ah yes. I go to Northwestern University, a school famous for its, shall we say, lax style of footwear. The first-place NU women’s lacrosse team stirred a hubbub of discussion of proper foot attire in summer 2005 when many of them wore flip flops to the White House.

Kudos to you, Wildcat athletes. In this photo, you look poised and confident—a look I would not expect from anyone wearing a high heel. You look smart and happy, with an “I just won the national title” kind of look. You made conscious decisions not to wear the strappy heels, the tall boots, the platform sandals, deciding not to look like a fool and trip and fall on the way to shaking hands with the President.

Of course, flip flops are bad for your health. They force your toes into awkward positions and give your heels no support. But I’m sure they’re not nearly as bad as the four-inch heels that are more socially acceptable. It had to have been a man who designed women’s footwear. Otherwise, our shoes would have been designed to be pretty, classy and comfy all at once.

If anyone has suggestions for some great shoes that fit this description, I’d love to hear them. Because until then, I’ll probably be wearing flip flops and gym shoes for any occasion less dressy than a trip to the White House—and when I do pull out the high heels, I may need a cane to help me out.

You look a bit too young.

I’ve started to become suddenly obsessed with the fashion shows on TLC. What Not to Wear and 10 Years Younger have provided me–a girl who shrugs at shrugs and pushes pedal pushers away–with some valuable tips.

An all-natural moisturizer can keep your face youthful. Red shoes can, in fact, go with a blue outfit. And horizontal stripes are never the solution.

On 10 Years Younger, they take a person who has aged physically faster than chronologically, set him or her up in a box in the street and ask passers-by to estimate the age. “Oh, she looks 48.” “He’s at least 54.” And then we find out they’re actually 26 and 31.

The makeup, clothes and hair artists (and maybe a few doctors) proceed to help make this person look a decade younger. Simple. A great concept for a show, and fun to watch.

But what if you wanted to look 10 years older?

Your family friends ask you how school is. You’re talking about college, but they’re still thinking you’re about to enter high school.

You’re sick of being carded at the bars—you’re 30!

When you ask for the Petite section in the department stores, the employees point you to Juniors.

For you—you need the show 10 Years Older.

Here, the makeup artist would remove your lotion and add dark circles under your eyes. Get rid of those contacts and buy some big, thick glasses. No more cute jeans, says the fashion guru. You’ve got to wear baggy jumpsuits. And your hair? All I can say is that gray is the new blonde.

After appearing on this new show, nobody will ever doubt your age again. And you’ll get the respect you know you deserve.

What are you waiting for? You have wrinkles yet to be formed.

**Special thanks to Tanya for looking 10 years too young and being the inspiration for this post.**