I'm officially a woman. Why? Because I just bought my first pair of black stilettos.
I'd been told, read, and of course inferred vicariously through Sex & The City reruns that I wasn't much of a "real" woman without owning at least one pair of stilettos. I made it my mission at the beginning of the summer to buy a pair, but after trying on a few and feeling an immediate and full stop of all blood flowing to my feet I decided the pain just wasn't worth it. I am, above all else, a comfort gal. If I could arrange it so I could go through life wearing nothing but old sweatpants, a t-shirt and no bra, don't think for a moment I wouldn't do it.
So I was more shocked than anyone when today, while shopping at the Black & White store (my favorite store. The salespeople are totally helpful and will dress you like a doll so you don't even have to think about what goes with what), I pulled on the pair of stileto's handed to me and LOVED THEM.
I'm never working out again. I'm just going to wear my stilletos with everything. They give great muscle definition and plus, why would I need to be strong? If I'm robbed, instead of running I'll raise my leg and poke the would-be-robber's eye out with the spike heel of my new kick-ass shoes.
Still, some thought was required.
"You look great in those!" chirped the salesgirl.
"I do look great in these," I agreed. "I'm going to get them."
"Wonderful. Why don't you try walking around a bit to make sure those are the right size."
"Huh?" I asked. I had planted myself firmly in front of the three-way mirror. I shook my head at her question. "No, you don't understand. I live in Birkenstocks. I don't expect to ever actually be able to take a step in these."
She looked puzzled. "But how will you get around?"
I shrugged. I still haven't figured that one out but I'm not too worried. If I have to hobble and half-drag myself up a sidewalk and cling to water fountains and interior walls to get to where I'm going, so be it. I'll stand up straight and look great once I get there.
And be sure to stay tuned to this blog for what I'm sure will be most entertaining posts about podiatry appointments and 10 different ways to save face after falling flat on your butt because you wore a pair of stilts with a little belt buckle, knowing full well you have no sense of balance or grace to begin with.
So be it. I think I'm going to sleep with my special grown-up shoes tonight. Just pray I don't roll over and unintentionally stab myself.