Recently I had to find a cover image for a book I had completed, and I was drawn to this image of a little girl, wearing what I’m guessing are her mom’s best pearls and standing with her feet in her mom’s red shoes.
And that got me thinking about the many shoe styles that women can choose from these days–stiletto, wedge, platform, ballerina, Mary Jane, spike, thong (like the sexy underwear except the tiny piece of material slips between toes rather than butt cheeks), espadrille, flat, sling-back, loafer, peep-toe, pump and sandal, and this list doesn’t even cover the nearly endless boot possibilities out there.
I also realized that shoe choices are yet another example of the differences that exist between the two sexes that make up our human race on this watery planet.
I’ve looked at men’s shoes, and I’ll bet they are pretty comfortable to wear; they are solid and flat with square boxy half-inch heels that likely are great at absorbing the pounding shock a foot receives each time its person takes a step.
Men’s shoes are usually brown or black loafers with tassels or laced-up oxfords that could probably be interchanged between the various men wearing them without anyone noticing anything wrong or out-of-place.
Men’s shoes aren’t even worthy of an entire blog post–a Tweet could pretty much cover everything that needs to be said about their footwear choices and at the end there would still be a few characters left from the 140 character limit.
Women’s shoes, on the other foot, are a study in extremes; I am amazed there are women who can walk around in shoes with heels as high as circus stilts and as small around as spaghetti strands, and I am equally amazed that we don’t see more women sporting casts or hobbling on crutches because of sprained ligaments and broken ankles.
I know women who never wear flat shoes–high heels only, thank you very much; unless they’re heading to a golf course they see no reason to stretch their calf muscles by donning ballerina shoes or Mary Jane shoes or loafers. I’m not sure what they wear if and when they go to a gym or want to hike around town on a sunny spring afternoon–maybe balancing on high heels gives them enough of a workout that they don’t need any other form of exercise to stay fit.
Now, before I get tackled for picking on those of my gender who love to wear heels, rest assured that I’m not being mean-spirited–I find it fascinating that they are able to walk without wobbling and maneuver up and down stairs without stumbling when at times I can barely remain upright even wearing my trusty sport sandals. (And this has nothing to do with wine consumption!)
No, I simply cannot wear high heels; no matter how wide or narrow the heel is the shoes kill my feet. Because of this problem I’ve given away all of the dressy shoes that I owned and am forced to stick with flat or very-low heeled shoes–like something your kindly old grandmother might wear to church.
And what about Cinderella’s glass slippers? This poor young woman worked from morning til night without stopping–you can just bet that her feet were paining by the time she got all dicky-dooed-up for the ball.
Would a sensible, sweet child like that have chosen high-heeled glass shoes to house her tender tootsies, or would she have said, “I’m so sorry, Gus (one of the mice), but there is just no way that my swollen feet are going into those seven-inch high chambers of torture in order to meet my Prince. Can you imagine dancing in those things? Nope. I want a nice pair of ballerina flats, please, and who on earth thought of glass slippers in the first place–there’s no give to them and they certainly wouldn’t mold to my feet. Get me velvet, please, or dragon hide.”
What a smart girl Cinderella was, and thankfully the Prince didn’t mind her appearing at the ball in Ballerina flats, and the young couple lived happily ever after. (This is a severely condensed version of the original story, mind you, but you get the picture…)
But back to the image I chose for the front cover of my book Now That I’m Mature–I do love the red shoes the little girl is wearing, and I’m going to keep my eyes open for a nice pair of bright red (maybe even bright, shiny red) shoes that are as comfortable as they are attractive. Surely they exist.
Or maybe these?
But most likely these:
I’m off to search for the perfect shoes now, so as one of my aunts used to shout whenever she entered a department store with her right arm raised and a credit card clutched in her hand…”CHARGE!”
Wish me luck. Oh–and don’t be a stranger.