Learn how to walk in a freakin’ pair of heels. Last night, as I wandered down Fourteenth Street with the Refugee, he took appreciative note of my fabulous four-inch Victorian streetwalker shoes. And, also, my ability to effectively perambulate in them.
Most women in this town take tiny, very deliberate steps, planting each foot down with ridiculous care. It's like watching Bambi wade across the Miljacka. Moreover, they don the nasty plastic flip-flops even to cross the street, so they just don’t get enough practice.
I had to practice walking in heels before I was allowed to wear them in public. I have an advanced degree in Heelology. And, like many of my more civilized qualities, all credit is due to Mom. She had me walk in a straight line, in heels, arms out, a book balanced on my head. (I can still do this, even after a half-dozen beers. It's my favorite party trick.)
So, ladies: If you’re going to rock the sexy heels, learn how to ROCK them. Take long, confident strides, and waggle your hips for balance (…and attention). Make sure your shoes actually fit – if you’re spilling over the sides of your slingbacks, you aren’t going to be able to walk in them. And don't stomp. You aren't a two-year-old in the throes of a sugar tantrum. Remember: long steps, and a bit of a wiggle in your walk. I swear it isn't hard.
PS: I rarely wear high heels, on the grounds that I’m 5’2” and not fooling anyone. But if I’m going to wear them, I’m going to ROCK them.
PPS: Sign of the Gentrification Apocalypse #457, I cruised Fourteenth in killer heels and no one attempted to purchase my company for the evening. Wow, this town has changed.
PPPS: I'm a little disjointed today, so excuse me. Thursdays tend to hurt.
PPPPS: At least I had a better night than this guy.
PPPPPS: Anybody else read that article and think, "I would totally pass out in a stranger's house for some free spare ribs"? Just me? Really?