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.