But herein lies a truth that a girl must face, do you sacrifice pain for the most insanely beautiful pair of shoes you think you have ever seen?
Growing up with a mother who taught me that wearing high heels to the small town grocery store is no big deal had me instantly trudging around the city in unpractical shoes, happy to be in a place that appreciates the look of a good fashionable shoe even if I could barely walk by the end of the night. As I went through my chameleon stages of fashion over years, I've found that heel height has gotten higher by the inch and I've duly obliged.
I cringed at wearing a pair of heels four years ago that were 3.75" but quickly got used to them even if a few embarrassing bloody knees were in order. Now the 3-4" range is like a dream. I can still hold my own in a little over 4", though I feel like I've had a few face to concrete instances as I'm clinging on to someone walking down the street, lagging at the cross walk as everyone runs before the light turns green and the threat of a twisted ankle is ever so daunting.
As Spring sales are at the high and Fall Collections are starting to roll in, the seduction of buying some gorgeous shoes with ridiculous heel height is there everywhere I look. Finding the perfect flats or sandals that don't look like re-incarnations of the same lace up studded beaded ankle wrap gladiator I am sick of is nearly impossible, but the 5.1" Marni Sandals that would look perfectly insane with everything is staring at me right in the face and at a good price.
Do I buy them as little art sculptures to sit on a shelf and only fantasize of being able to run skip and jump through the city in my dream shoes? Do I risk it and just literally pay the price?
My heart says yes but my feet say no.
1. my sketch, looking at nicholas kirkwood shoes
2. charlotte olympia shoes, shot by jak & jil
3. my sketch, the unreal level: looking at nina ricci
4. marni, i need want: spring 2009 left, new winter edition 2009 right