In the 1950s, the birth of the stiletto heel happened. Like other fashions of the time, it was not at all practical.
Seventy years later, they’re still not practical as far as shoes go.
Especially when it comes to killing spiders. There isn’t enough surface area to kill a small to medium-sized spider unless you have incredible accuracy. If the spider is large enough for you to see, you better have good aim. If you miss, you might as well set your house on fire because you’ll never find it again.
I have always been a heel admirer. I think stilettos are beautiful, and I wish I could wear them with grace and confidence, but I can’t. Because a boot is heeley enough for me. So naturally, for my daughter’s first communion last year, I bought a pair of stilettos.
Four-inch, to be exact.
Because Saucony doesn’t make a formal shoe.
Also, unlike walking in high-heeled shoes, when it comes to waiting until the last minute, I excel beyond belief. If I could cash in some of my procrastinator skills to walk in heels, I’d be that woman who ran a full marathon in stilettos. As it stands, I couldn’t even walk across my living room in mine. I had to use a chair to push myself to the back door like a walker.
Unfortunately for me, these shoes were all I could find in my size. The universe was out of both flats and wedges. I’d have even taken platform. Anything that made me feel like I was on solid ground and not on stilts. So, I got what shoes they had and learned some pretty harsh life-lessons that night.
I cannot walk normally in these shoes.
Apparently, there is a right way to walk in stilettos. I was not doing this. You are supposed to put one leg directly in front of the other like walking on a runway. Not walking like you do in flats on a carpeted floor to the bathroom while dragging a five-year-old.
Five-year-olds do not care about your walking challenges in heels.
I was supposed to put all my trust and weight onto my heels.
Yes, the skinniest part of the shoe that’s made from not much more material than three pencils. All my weight and total trust that as long as I’m “walking the runway,” I won’t snap my ankle like a twig.
Different floor surfaces create different issues.
Every floor surface requires an entire seminar and four-week practical exam to master. Walking the tiled church hallway and stairs requires seven Haily Marys and an understanding that we all die and this may be my moment.
Since my toes were bent at a very natural 45 degree angle, I spent the evening walking around on the ball of my feet and tiptoes. My feet were so sore I could barely move. Removing my shoes wasn’t an option. I’m not a quitter. Well, usually I am and I’m almost always fine with that, but for some reason, I just didn’t take off my shoes. Instead, I stood still keeping the weight on my toes because I am not a smart person.
My toes didn’t feel right for a long time after.
Around Christmas, I guessed that I probably sprained them. They often hurt when I was running or just bent them in general. By January, they were the same. Of course, they were sprained and of course, they didn’t heal because I was still running on them. Runners are dedicated to their sport; injury be damned. Runners also run for fun, so I feel like I don’t have to explain myself further here.
As of last week, I could feel a weird stretching, popping sensation on the underside of my big toe. I’m sure that’s not good but, it hurts less now than it did, so it must be getting better. Nevermind that it probably would’ve healed three months ago if I had just rested it for two weeks. The moral of this story is how to care for and treat and injury so you can get back into running.
Just kidding, the only moral to my story is that I’m an idiot and should never wear these shoes again.
And I won’t.
Even with my newfound experience and knowledge of keeping the weight on the flimsiest part of the shoe, which I still don’t trust. I mean, what could possibly go wrong with not being used to wearing heels and then putting all of your weight on that one part of the shoe?
The whole design concept of the stiletto is like a crazy trust fall with an inanimate object that has zero interest in catching you.
I’m keeping these shoes. Not because I plan to practice wearing them, because I don’t. I’m keeping them because I’ll never take the time to return them.
Points for procrastination.
As I said, I’ve always been an admirer of stilettos.
I’ve just never been good at wearing them.
Besides, who knows, maybe someday I’ll need them for the right-sized spider.