It's All In The Assitude

Over the years, I have tried to get accustomed to walking in heels, but with little success. I have had a few glimpses or moments when I have accomplished something that felt right and resembled someone who knew what they were doing, but not with any regularity, and only when I was quite stoned. I just couldn’t seem to get it right, and was starting to think that maybe it was that some girls, or perhaps 'girls' specifically, what are built to walk in heels. Another reason to reject this inconvenient gender 'foible' of mine.

What i had been working with

Was I going to accept this bogus rational during my Year of Living Transformationally? I decided not, and started to focus seriously on the issue. First, I realized that all the heels in my possession were fairly high, four inches or more, and that perhaps I was biting off more than I could chew. So when I ran across a plain pair of a shorter heeled sandal type heels in my favorite second hand cheapie boutique, two strap pump thingies with a modest two to perhaps two and half inch heel, (maybe three) I bought them, they fit so well. I have big feet, clodhoppers really, appropriate for my 5'8" height, but that's no consolation, but these shoes made my feet look smaller and elegant. I loved them. And, oddly enough, they were actually very comfortable right right off the bat. This was a good sign.

The new ones

I wore them at work the next day, but just on the job. Didn't want to get a blister half way thru the day. I needn't have worried. They were great. I couldn’t remember having broken in a shoe more easily. A couple of days later, I wore them again, only this time, I wore them on the way to work, thinking this time to carry ballet pumps with me just in case. And off I went to catch the bus. Only to realize too late that I had forgotten the pumps. Oh well. I continued on my way, albeit a tad slowly. Thing was, it was not bad walking in them, but I had to slow my walk down to almost a crawl in order to walk without looking like a drunk, or an idiot. That was ok, but now I looked like I was out for a midnight stroll, and that is not a great way to get around anything other than a party, a shoe department, or a street corner, if you get my drift. However, I soldiered on, and made my way successfully to the bus stop.

When I disembarked my crosstown bus, it just so happened that my connector bus was at its stop, on the other side of the intersection; the cross walk light was still 'go.' I had to move quickly if i wanted to catch that bus. Without thinking, I just started running. And it was at that precise time that I connected with my heels. Because in order to run in heels, if you don't want to kill yourself, what one has to do is basically, run ‘like a girl.’ Any attempt to do otherwise is going to lead to disaster, either by misstep, or fashion faux pas. One has to prance if one wants to get anywhere quickly. And prance I did. By the time I got to the bus stop*, I ‘owned’ my heels. I had arrived, and in a timely fashion. I was now walking in my heels as if they were meant for me. Tra la la.

And as far as I can tell, that is the secret. One has to prance, sashay, or otherwise use one's ass to walk successfully in heels. Heels are all about attitude, about 'devil may care,' about ‘come and get it kind of stuff.’ Real rear view advertising. Dress ‘em up anyway you want, heels are ‘fuck me’ shoes, and you had better at least have that concept in mind if not the actual intention if you don’t want to look like you’re walking on stilts. It’s like décolletage. If one décolletages, people are going to stare at one's tits. That’s what décolletage is. Cleavage. Melons on display. If you are wearing décolletage, and trying to hide your cleavage, you're in the wrong game. You don’t like men raking your rack, don’t décolletage. Are men pigs? Of course they are, what else is new?  But if you want to walk correctly in heels, you just have to accept the fact that your ass is going to be in the air, on display, and take it in stride. It’s all girly. Assitude.*And yes, I did catch the bus.

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